


The death of Karkat Vantas, and subsequent bullshit

by TheLadySyk0



Series: Johnkat movies and ghosts au [1]
Category: Homestuck, johnkat - Fandom
Genre: AU, Afterlife, Angst, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Feels, Forgiveness, Funny, Gamzee is Karkat's guide, Ghosts, Grief, Happy Ending, Hatred, Humanstuck, I promise a happy ending, Insane Asylums, Insanity, Its Karkat searching for John, M/M, Old Age, Old Married Couple, Past Abuse, Past Kidnapping, Past Murder, Sad, Sadstuck, Stabdads, The Midnight Crew - Freeform, and then really cute, at first, background janezee, background rosemary - Freeform, baloney, chewing off your fingernails, cute gayness too, eww meulin stop that its gross, ghost world - Freeform, grief and forgiveness, it will be great, its gonna get funnier, kind of, loosely based on the book "the five people you meet in heaven", mafia, old karkat breaks everything, past stabdads, rosemary, smashing expensive things, some violence, sorry for the sad start, then feels-stuck, then it will get really funny, this is just the beginning, threatening to set someone on fire, weird afterlife rules, you have to let go of your bitterness before you move on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 60,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4203933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadySyk0/pseuds/TheLadySyk0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And so it was the day that Karkat Vantas was set to die.</p><p>At exactly 11:45 this night Karkat Vantas will simply stop breathing. </p><p>His death will be peaceful, and covered in baloney.</p><p> </p><p>And it will only be the beginning.</p><p>Because this tiny, old, baloney-covered man has a very long journey to take.</p><p>And a very special man to find.</p><p>Character study of the life of Karkat Vantas. Deals with tragedy, love, grief and forgiveness as Karkat travels through the spirit world looking for John. To find John he has to cross over, and to do that he has to forgive the people that hurt him when he was alive.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. how dare the world continue.

**Author's Note:**

> its sad. first chapter is super sad.

And so it was the day that Karkat Vantas was set to die.

 

An old man trudged through an impressive but empty estate with all of the steadfast will and grace of a lead turtle.

Karkat Vantas had always been a short man, but age and grief have the indescribable ability to make one even shorter. Thick eyebrows furrow at their surroundings, when he and John had this place built why the fuck did they make all of the hallways so fucking long?

His cane digs too deep into the carpet and his unsteady trudgings grind to a hault as he sways on unsteady wrinkley-ass legs. His shoulder bumps into the wall and a picture frame is knocked off the wall in a delicate-sounding shatter as Karkat’s bulky weight slides down the wall and to the floor in a not-so-delicate sounding thwump. Breathing heavily, Karkat swears as he digs his cane from out underneath his ass. He uses the curved handle of the cane to hook to picture frame that had fallen to his right and slide it closer to him. He picks out the last remaining pieces of glass from around the photo and slides the paper out of the wrecked frame.

There. The picture was scratched but still recognizable.

He would recognize those big blue eyes anywhere.

Karkat had been a starving romantic comedy screenwriter and director, while John was working as a highschool science teacher and supporting them both. 

John in all of his dorkiness and touchingly heatfelt nature, was his muse. Even through paper John's charm and pure nature must have shown through, because somehow, some way, Karkat had gotten a movie deal for one of his screenplays. He had begged John to act for him, he was the star in his mind after all. The budget was horrible, there was no air conditioning in the dinky two-bit studio where they shot it but they managed to make something…

New. Breath-taking. Heartfelt.

And they both rode that sucker to the Oscars and launched themselves into brand-new careers.

The picture was taken at the award ceremony, John Lanky and elegant in his tuxedo, Karkat short and tubby in his own ill-fitting tuxedo. Johns smiling and kissing him on the cheek onstage.After months of hard work that was the moment that they had WON and shoved a big fat middle finger in the faces of everyone who doubted them, and they had done it together.  
Karkat slowly picks himself off of the floor, bones creaky and obstinate in even the smallest of movements.

He looks up from the photo in his hands to the ones that still adorn the walls. Advertisements for their movies, award ceremonies, shaking hands with the rich and famous. Their wedding photo….

The movie channel is having a movie marathon right about now of all of the now “classic” movies they made together.

You know, in commemoration of John’s death.

So many versions of John’s blue eyes look at him from photo after photo, twinkling, trapped in time to when they were both young and happy.

Karkat clutches his cane, caramel-colored knuckles going bone white in the ferocity of his grip. With all of his strength Karkat slams his cane into the glass-covered front of John’s face smiling at him from a movie poster.

“YOU IDIOT!!” The glass tumbles to the floor in a cascade of broken points of light. Karkat rips his cane back as the frame falls to the floor and immediately attacks another poster.

“YOU JUST HAD TO DIE DIDN’T YOU!!!” The cane swings into another frame and John’s cheery love-struck face in another movie poster, flies across the room and hits the opposite wall, shattering and leaving scratches in impossibly-expensive wall-paper.

“YOU DIED AND LEFT ME HERE WITHOUT YOU!!!” Karkat goes to swing for another photo but stops mid-swing. 

John’s warm smile mocks him from their wedding photo. John stands next to him, both of them looking so fucking happy to be together and he can’t for the life of him break it he just can't.

Its like a punch to the gut.

All karkat can do in this moment is curl to the floor and sob. 

 

Crying is different than it is in the movies.

In the movies, the girl sniffles cutely as mascara runs down her face, strong man-hands of her love interest wiping away her tears.

Real grief is powerful, a hot heavy force that smothers from you your breath in thick rasping sobs that tremble through your whole body. Its like being possessed, this hot empty burning brand where your humanity is supposed to be. Its ugly too, filled with more snot, tears, contorted red faces and wet rasping breaths than most film-makers are willing to admit.

After his fit of grief, Karkat feels numb.

The cinematic backdrop for this grief would be dark skies and thick pouring rain in a grey somber city to the sound of wailing sobs. But of course the universe has to be a dickbag, and out the window it's sunny with bright cheery blue skies.

Two birds flit outside tweeting and chirping happily to each other.

 

In this moment Karkat feels the hottest, deepest, most irrational burning hatred anyone in the universe has ever felt for a pair of birds. He knows its irrational but that doesn't stop him from wanting to throw both birds into a microwave and nuking them until their cheery little heads explode.

 

Because how dare they.

How DARE they be happy.

HOW DARE ANYONE BE HAPPY.

DON’T 

THEY

KNOW 

HE’S 

DEAD?

The world should stop. The world should have stopped fucking spinning the moment he stopped breathing. The whole world should look out their windows and to the skies above and notice that something is wrong. They should look out and feel in their very bones that the world has changed in a sickening irreversible way because something has gone missing. Some pure, beautiful thing has been wiped off the planet that will never be replaced because he is dead and nothing will ever be the same.

But the world doesn’t work that way. The earth kept spinning. The sun continued to shine. CNN mentioned briefly that “John Egbert movie legend died peacefully in his sleep this past Tuesday” and the movie channel put on a movie marathon.

 

And the birds kept chirping, blissfully unaware that the world has gotten a little more horrible without him.

 

Karkat picks himself off of the floor and his joints bemoan the fact that he has slid to the floor far too many times today, and trudges off to the kitchen.

He doesn’t bother with the mess, Aranea will pick it up tomorrow.

Aranea was the personal care-giver that he had hired to take care of John. He had given her the day off because dead people don’t need personal care-givers. He’s going to have to talk with her about her job when she comes in tomorrow. He doesn’t want to fire her, she has fucking tuition to pay, but there's no fucking John to take care of now so what the fuck is she going to do around here?

He looks back at the mess of broken glass and twisted picture frames.

Well that's a thing she can do at least… He resolves to knock down a lamp or something every day like some kind of giant senile house cat.

He gets to work out his aggression on unsuspecting lamps, Aranea gets to keep her job.

Karkat Vantas: Job creator.

Aranea is Vriska’s daughter, she is all easy smiles and long-winded speeches about fucking everything. He had first hired her years ago when John first started acting weird.

It had started off slow with him. Forgetting dates, middle names and the proper amounts for recipes. Then it was leaving his car keys in the freezer, calling people by their wrong names. Until finally it was forgetting to put on pants, losing sense of the passage of time, forgetting even his own family’s names.There were doctors and drugs. Aranea was a psychology student and she would sit with John for hours with children’s flash cards, telling him long-winded stories about his own life that he would swear sounded-

so 

familiar…

It slowed down the symptoms for a while, but eventually it was like trying to stop up Niagara falls with a piece of bubblegum.

Until John would scream in shock at the mirror and ask him when did they get so old?

“When did we get so old kitty?”

“...When did we get so old?”

And Karkat would just hold him, make him a sandwich or something until he stopped crying.

He never forgot him though.

Even to the end he still remembered him.

 

He trudges into his kitchen, past the mounds of wilting funeral bouquets that he absolutely refuses to take care of. So many friends, family members, movie industry assholes and hipster fans who like their “retro” movies have sent him flowers, and baskets, and fruit and glittery flowery cards with disgusting meaningless things like “in your time of grief” and “In god’s light”. He thinks Aranea might be watering some of them when he isn’t looking. 

He wants to burn them all.

Without matches he’ll just have to settle for knocking one particularly gaudy vase of blood-red roses off of the table with his cane. The glittery abomination hits the floor with a satisfying shatter.

Another thing for Aranea to do.

John didn’t even like roses...Hardly any of these people even fucking knew him….

He makes his way to the kitchen and to the ancient landline phone sitting on the kitchen counter.

37 new messages.

He hits play as he trudges over to the refrigerator to mindlessly eat.

“Karkat…” Rose’s voice flits through his kitchen “While I understand why you haven’t answered your phone or talked to anyone after the funeral I must explain why its ill-advised, you need contact with other people, I know that you’re hurting, but isolation will only worsen the effects of-”

Karkat hits the “delete” button with the tip of his cane and goes back to rummaging through the refrigerator.

The next message starts with Dave’s low sigh “........I’ve left you ten messages Karkles….” In a rare breach of coolness, Karkat can hear the anguish dripping from Dave’s weary breath “....You’re not the only one who’s hurting without him you fucker….” The last second of the message is an angry slam of Dave’s phone.

Delete.

It’s Jane’s delicate sniffling he hears in the next message “....Karkat?.....”

He pauses from where he had been eating sliced lunch meat straight from the package without tasting it. “...... I know what you’re going through Karkat…..”

Out of all of them it probably is Jane who understands best. It had been over forty years since Gamzee was gunned down in a botched mugging. His death had shattered their newlywed bliss and left Jane alone with twins. They had mourned him together. He mourned the loss of his best friend, she lost her husband. It had brought them closer together in the way that only shared grief can. He had always made sure to look out for Gamzee’s kids, even if that Caliborn turned out to be a fucking terror. Jane had made him Calliope and Caliborn’s godfather.

She was also John’s older sister. They had been so close….

“I know you’re angry….because I was angry too……We’ve lost too many people Karkat…...We’ve lost too many fucking people…..”

It was an amazing circumstance when profanity came out of the mouth of Jane Crocker, he knew how much it meant she was hurting…

“I wanted to burn down the world for not properly mourning him, for letting him get killed in the first-place….there are times even now that I still feel raw about it...It's been forty-five years since he died karkat….and even now….”

He heard her sharp intake of breath and her shuddering exhale.

“But you helped me back then….You and John….”

Don’t say his name, please Janey don’t....

“...You and John helped me stay afloat back then...please….let me do the same for you…..”

It was so tempting. Karkat thought about calling Janey while chewing through a mouthful of lunchmeat. Letting her come over, having a good fucking cry together. He knew she was hurting too…

But he doesn’t think he can face her Egbert-family blue eyes just yet.

 

Message saved.

 

Next the sob heavy sound of his daughter’s voice filled the room.

“PICK UP THE PHONE YOU ASSHOLE I KNOW YOU’RE THERE!!!!”

 

All those years ago when John and Karkat were young, their movie careers were young, it was John who told him he wanted kids.

They had tried orphanages but after…..

after….

After….

That doesn’t matter right now….

After IT they had decided to have a child through in vitro and a surrogate.

Rose had donated the egg with the agreement that John would be the sperm donor for when her and Kanaya decided to have children. The agreement had worked out for both parties, Rose and Kanaya’s kids inherited a tall dark lankiness from John that was so similar to Kanaya that people often assumed it was Kanaya’s eggs used, he and John got Casey. Unlike Kanaya’s tall elegance, it was a pretty damn good thing that Casey looked nothing like him. She was all of Rose’s blonde beauty with John’s tallness and his striking blue eyes.

She sure as fuck got her spunk from him though….

“YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY FROM ME DICKBAG!” Karkat’s heart clenched at the sound of her angry sobs 

“DID YOU JUST DECIDE ‘today i’m going to be a douche’ BECAUSE LET ME TELL YOU. YOU ARE BEING A TOTAL DOUCHE!!”

He could practically see the angry tears rolling down her face as she shouted into the phone.

“YOU CAN’T KEEP ME AWAY FOREVER!!! I WILL DRAG YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING PITY-PARTY IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO!!!” 

She can’t exactly angrily slam down an iphone for dramatic effect like Dave did, but he imagines that she angrily poked the ‘end call’ button.

He knows that she’s right. That he’s being selfish. That he’s a horrible father. But he can’t look at John’s eyes staring out from her face right now. How the fuck do you tell your kid that their presence makes you want to jump out of a window face-first into the concrete below in the world’s worst belly-dive, rather than look them in the eye?

What kind of father can’t stand to look at their own kid?

A shit father that's who.

 

Having destroyed his living room, listened to gut-wrenching phone messages and eaten an entire pack of baloney, Karkat feels physically and emotionally drained.

He trudges up to his bedroom even though it's only 4:30 in the afternoon.

He’ll call them back in the morning.

He lays down without changing into his pajamas. Cold baloney adorning the front of his turtleneck. Right now it feels like he can sleep forever….

 

and in a way...he does.

At exactly 11:45 that night Karkat Vantas will simply stop breathing. 

His death will be peaceful, and still covered in baloney.

 

And it will only be the beginning.

Because this tiny, old, baloney-covered man has a very long journey to take.

And a very special man to find.


	2. we've got a problem with a corpse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> now with 100% more ghost-kat
> 
> Also introducing Aranea

The weak amber sun flitted weakly through the venetian blinds of his bedroom window.

Karkat sat up in bed slowly.

Something was different today. There wasn’t the usual grogginess of sleep, the constant white-noise pain of arthritic joints, muscle pain and general weariness set into his bones for so many years is….

Completely absent….

Before he can think too much about his complete lack of joint pain he hears a car roll up into his driveway. A quick peek out of the blinds confirms that its Aranea reporting for duty, her little blue electric car whirring up the path before the motor cuts out and its driver gets out.

She looks so much like her mother. 

Vriska would have scammed some schmuck to come with her though to do all of the heavy lifting, meanwhile Aranea balances a thick stew pot on a rail thin hip as she closes the car door awkwardly with her foot. She fumbles with her keys until the tiny blue car gives a cheery little “beep” to confirm its locked.

Its a gated fucking community Aranea, no one's going to steal your fucking car you skinny little dork.

With the hand not steadying the stew pot on her hip she adjusts the cerulean headband in her hair, bites her lip, squares her shoulders and walks in.

Shit he’s going to have to have that awkward conversation about employment now isn’t he?

He can hear the clack of her heels against the marble floors as she walks in.

“Karkat?” she calls for him, her voice echoing through the foyer “Me and Meenah made you a casserole.. because I know when left alone without a proper meal you do gross things like drink out of the milk carton or eat sliced turkey out of the package….”

It was actually baloney this time.

Her high heels clack on the stairs as she climbs. She reaches the den Karkat had his temper tantrum yesterday and he can hear glass clink under her boots.

“OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK!”

Karkat giggles to himself as he sits on the bed.

“SIR?!! ARE YOU OK??!!”

Karkat huffs and finally calls out to her “yeah i’m fine”.

In her fit she doesn’t seem to hear him “OH MY GOD THERE'S GLASS EVERYWHERE!”

She finally reaches his bedroom and timidly knocks “sir?...”

“Come in Aranea.”

Aranea pokes her head through the door sheepishly. “Sir?....”

Ok now this is just getting fucking annoying “YEAH. HI. FUCKING HI. JUST FUCKING COME ON IN ALREADY. WE NEED TO TALK.”

Aranea tiptoes into the room and Karkat rises from the bed.

“OK KIDDO, I’M GOING TO LEVEL WITH YOU. JOHN'S NOT HERE ANYMORE. BUT I DON’T WANT TO FIRE YOU SO...CLEAN SOMETHING OR SOME SHIT? I DON’T FUCKING KNOW…”

Aranea bites her lip and seems to look right through him. Karkat waves a hand before her face and snaps his fingers.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARANEA, ARE YOU HIGH? I SWEAR TO FUCK IF YOU’RE FUCKING HIGH….”

Aranea slides the casserole onto the dresser “wake up sir…”

“WHAT THE FUCK ARANEA I’M ALREADY FUCKING AWA-”

Aranea walks calmly forward into his space and she’s too close without seeing him she’s going to knock him down and she-

In that moment he is nothing. not even fog as he feels what he assumed was a body give way to her own, corporeal, ethereal he dissipates as she steps unseeingly through him.

THROUGH HIM.

He pants as he reforms, Aranea continues to walk as he tries to figure out where the fuck his lungs went, clutching his chest as a violent wave of icy shivers wracks through his body and he swears he can feel down to his toes. 

HE HAS TOES RIGHT??

He turns to Aranea to demand to know what the fuck happened to get a fucking response from her and thats when he sees it.

Aranea sits gingerly on the edge of the bed next to him. Except it ISN’T him. This thing is as much HIM as a wax sculpture of Abraham Lincoln in the history museum is the real Abraham fucking Lincoln.

In a split second Karkat recognizes two things.

Thing #1 That is his corpse  
Thing #2 He is a mother fucking ghost

Most people would be more frightened by the knowledge of their death, but in Karkat’s shocked and confused mind, all he can think about is how fucking insufferable John will be because he was right about the whole “ghosts” thing.

Thats right...John….

“Sir come on….” Aranea pokes at his fleshy wax-doll corpse in an increasingly worried manner but Karkat Vantas has other more important things on his mind.

Ok so he’s a fucking ghost now, which means that JOHN is ghost.

Aranea shakes the corpse’s shoulder “KARKAT???”

If he is dead and he’s still here, that means JOHN is still here, somewhere, he’s not gone, where IS he?

Aranea pulls the corpse-karkat’s shoulders off of the mattress, its head lolls back.

“KARKAT????”

Oh shit, there are actual tears in her eyes now.

Aranea pressed her fingers to where Karkat’s pulse is supposed to be, waves a hand in front of his mouth where she’s supposed to feel his breath.

Nothing.

Aranea jerks her hand back from the corpse like its burned her, and presses her hands to her mouth, tears rolling down her face.

Its now that Karkat realizes that his death isn’t just going to be a stop to the humdrum pain of old age, or a convenient way to get back to John again, that his death is going to have an impact.

Whether he likes it or not…

“...I’m so sorry you had to be the one to find me Aranea….” he whispers to the raven-haired girl, even though he knows she can’t hear him.

She clumsily reaches for the phone and jerkily calls the police.

“.....Yes….” She sniffles through the receiver “....Umm….I have to report a death….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ghost-kat  
> nanananananananana  
> GHOST-KAT!!
> 
> Comment! even if you're a guest you can comment!
> 
> have no idea if anyone is reading this so I guess this will be my semi-private magnum opus. like a diary except its online and I'm not a ghost.


	3. mother fuckin' ghosts and shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some up and miraculous noise in this bitch.
> 
> the continued adventures of ghost-kat

Aranea flees to the front yard to greet the paramedics. Meenah comes next and Aranea collapses into her girlfriend’s arms, the black girl’s bracelets jangle as she pats Aranea’s back and rocks them both back and forth as Aranea sobs, blue mascara running down her face in ugly smears.

Karkat walks through his front yard as more and more of his friends arrive.

Rose and Kanaya come next. Rose sits with Aranea and Meenah while Kanaya, statuesque even in her old age, fetches them all a cup of tea from Karkat’s kitchen.

Dave comes next, normally about this time he would be busy running the movie studio he and Karkat owned together, but he comes and takes his place on the front lawn. In a rare moment of solidarity between the siblings, Rose twines her fingers with his and they sit in silence. Dave takes off his signature sunglasses and rubs his eyes.

Terezi briefly talks to the officers who responded to Aranea’s call. It's been a long time since she's been city attorney, but she still holds sway in the police force.

“I observed broken glass, do your officers suspect foul play?...”

“There is signs of destruction mam, but no sign of an attack…”

Past the gates paparazzi start to swarm like buzzards, but the grounds are long enough that the camera flashes and calls for comments fade into the background like a motor hum.

Karkat watches the circus of grief unfold, a news truck rolls up outside and a pretty blonde reporter starts to talk to a camera outside his gate.

With his attention to the camera crew, Karkat sees the car roll up from around the corner.

The car moves slowly up the road, a deep purple El Camino sports car that Karkat swears looks so familiar….

The car starts to turn up his driveway and it looks like it will run right into the mob of reporters, but with a sickening distortion of reality and proper physics the car parts like smoke above the heads of the buzzing paparazzi. Cameramen and journalists unknowingly walk through the dashboard of the sportscar, their midsections cut through with a bumper that leaves them on the other side unharmed. The car drives through the blonde reporter as she continues to talk to the camera in front of her. The car passes through the gate, parting and reforming through the bars like smoke or ink in water only to come through on the other side seemingly as solid as a rock.

The engine is as loud as a pack of angry dogs as it rolls up the driveway. Karkat watches his friends ignore the car as it pulls up to the curb, careful of parking laws despite being a fucking ghost car. The driver, hidden by shadow, absentmindedly taps loose ash of of a hand-rolled cigarette on the car door window, the pale grey hand retreats back into the car and a puff of long curly wisps of smoke escapes from the open window. The driver gets out of the car and-

 

Karkat was with Jane the day she had to ID Gamzee’s body. The police had called it “overkill”. Nine bullets sprayed across his body because of some squirrelly meth-head who decided to mug people to get a quick fix. All Gamzee had on him was the can of baby-food he was sent to get in a plastic convenience store bag.

Karkat remembers the cold morgue, the smell of disinfectant and the grey pallid fluorescent lights. They had brought Jane to a little window, beyond which lay a long lanky body under a sterile white sheet. He remembered him and John holding Jane as they lifted up the sheet to reveal Gamzee.

The creature before him has the same grey skin, the same glassy eyes as the Gamzee he saw that day under a sheet. 

The dead-Gamzee takes a long drag of the cigarette and curls of smoke rise up from the bullet wounds in his chest and neck. His hair long and tangled.

But the Gamzee that died 36 years old in a convenience store parking lot slowly starts to fade. His hair becomes smooth and curly, his skin brightens to its usual shade of caramel-pink, piercings appear on his ears. 

He fades and becomes younger until he’s not the 36 year-old man who died to a meth-head with a gun. This is the Gamzee that Karkat knows best, the lanky stoner in his high school, his 19 year-old best friend…

Gamzee grins slow and wide.

“Sup, mother-fucking best friend.”

In that moment Karkat’s old, wrinkly and doughy body starts to fade. His body back then hadn’t been doughy and soft, his body was the lean frame that could jump over fences and out-run the cops. His hands weren’t soft from years of only light labor, flipping through screenplays and tapping on a keyboard. His hands back then were calloused from climbing chain-link fences and knuckles that were always ready for a punch. Hands that had freckles instead of liver-spots.

He ran one of these hands through his hair and found it to be the same color it was all those years ago instead of the white-grey it had been until recently.

He wrapped his skinny teenage arms around Gamzee’s skinny middle.

“ITS SO FUCKING GOOD TO SEE YOU…..”  
It had been so long since he’s last seen his best friend…

Gamzee chuckles low and deep, and pats him on the back. “Its mother-fucking miraculous to see you too best friend…”

He places a hand on Karkat’s cheek “Been motherfucking missing you little buddy…”

Its so fucking good to see him, it's SO FUCKING good to see him but….

“...Gamzee….”

Gamzee chuckles and ruffles Karkat’s hair before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of his head “I mother-fucking know Kar-bro...I ain’t the mother-fucker you was expecting….”

Karkat pulls away just far enough to look up at Gamzee “Where’s John?”

Gamzee sighs “Kar-bo, we have a mother-fucking long car-trip to take, its gonna be a long fuckin’ trip with trials and mother-fucking tribulations fore’ you see your blue-eyed lil’ miracle…”

 

Behind them two paramedics take out a long, lumpy black bag on a stretcher. At the same time two cars roll up. From one shiny black car a young blonde woman jumps out of the passenger seat before the car fully stops moving, wrestles through the thick mire of accosting journalists and starts to jog up the driveway, her blonde hair swaying back and forth.

Casey makes it to where the Paramedics are loading the corpse onto the stretcher. She steps in front of them blocking their path and panting from her sprint.

“Open the fucking bag!”

“ma’m we’re not supposed to…”

“I’M HIS FUCKING DAUGHTER NOW OPEN THE DAMN BAG!!!!!”

The paramedics look to each other, then back to Casey.

The second car, emblazoned with a bright red spoon comes to a complete stop. Jane Crocker, while retired from running her company, still owns the very expansive Betty Crocker corporation. The driver of the car opens the door for her and she steps daintily out on a devil-red heel.

Even in her old age Jane Crocker is lovely, she is all squared shoulder and confident walk of the most experienced business executive and all the kind-warmness of the sweetest cookie-baking grandmother. Bright blue eyes tell a story of immeasurable pain and even greater strength.  
How Gamzee ever landed her, is a complete fucking mystery.

But back then she wasn’t the high-powered executive, back then she was the stressed-out, grade-A student who just so happened to be roped into tutoring Gamzee because of an honors program.

Her security pushes past the mob and Jane starts to walk up the driveway, a pretty panther in heels.

Gamzee smiles softly as he watches her breath-taken.

“...Janey….”

 

Casey continues to argue with the paramedics.

“I’M HIS FUCKING KID! I HAVE A RIGHT TO SEE HIM OPEN THE FUCKING BAG.”

The paramedics sigh and slowly unzip the plastic bag.

The fight drains from Casey’s face as she looks at the corpse. A tear rolls down her cheek as she gently puts a hand to her father’s cheek, she traces his jaw, swipes a thumb across his ear and gently cards a hand through his short bangs. She withdraws her hand and-

“YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” she kicks the stretcher hard enough to almost tip the corpse over. The paramedics rush to restrain her. Jane rushes to Casey’s side and gently pries her from the paramedics “YOU ASSHOLE I’M ALL ALONE NOW!!!!”.

Jane gathers her niece into her arms and pets her hair as she sobs, she rocks them both back and forth and whispers low sweet words of consolement into the sobbing woman’s ear.

Karkat would do anything to hold her right now, but his hand goes through her shoulder when he tries to lay a comforting hand. Gamzee comes behind him and lays a hand on Karkat’s shoulder. They observe the sobbing women together.

“She’s going to hate me now, isn’t she?…”

Gamzee shrugs, “if her time comes, and your little girl is still up and sour about it, that's when she’ll up and get her talk on to you about it bro…”

Gamzee steps up to Jane, for a moment the bullet holes in his chest reappear, he becomes grey and glassy-eyed again, but he touches his hand to the hand she has on Casey’s back and he looks alive again, not the teenage Gamzee that Karkat knew best, but the husband that Jane must have known, his long curly hair tied up into a ponytail, loose purple shirt and black paint-stained jeans, a gold band appears on his finger and he gives Jane a chaste kiss to the top of her head that they both know she can’t feel.

“I’ll be waiting for you Janey...Whenever you’re up and ready for it, I’ll be mother-fucking waiting for you chica….”

He turns and strides on long lanky legs back to the car, he takes Karkat’s hand in his own and after a quick glance over to Jane and Casey, Karkat follows him. He sits in the passenger side of the purple El Camino and Gamzee gets behind the wheel.

“Put on your fuckin’ seat-belt Kar-bro.” 

“GAMZEE, THIS IS A FUCKING GHOST-CAR, WHAT IN GOD’S NAME ARE WE GOING TO HIT? BESIDES WE’RE BOTH GHOSTS YOU IDIOT, WE CAN’T FUCKING GET ANY DEADER.”

“...there's some truth to that noise Karbro….”

Gamzee starts the ghost-car, another cigarette appears in his hand and the car starts to move down the driveway. Karkat watches Casey through the rear-view mirror for as long as he can while Gamzee slowly drives through the crowd around the estate, the car and themselves forming and reforming around the unseeing people until they come out on the other side.

Karkat leans over Gamzee, a pair of fuzzy purple dice hang in the rear-view mirror.

“Gam, do you know where John is?” he whispers.

Gamzee takes a drag of the cigarette and looks back to Karkat.

“Thats what where we’re going Kar-bro...John bro is up and on the other side, up and fucking passed over, white light, the great-beyond, paradise, all that noise…”

A strong look flits across Gamzee’s eyes “but it's a motherfucking long road Kar-bro…”

Karkat nods “I’m Ready.”

Gamzee smiles toothily at the shorter man.

“Lets do this bitch.”


	4. Blatant butt touchin' homosexuality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the description fits its a flashback to when they first fell in love

After school Karkat heads over to the purple El camino sports car in the parking lot like he does every day. Gamzee is behind the wheel already, smoking a cigarette. Karkat can see Gamzee’s eyes in the rear-view mirror as he flings his back-pack into the back-seat.

“sup Kar-bro…” Gamzee greets Karkat with a lazy grin.

Karkat slams the back door closed, flings the passenger door open and sits in the front passenger side, leaning back into gaudy purple leather and moodily putting his worn-out converse on the dashboard. He crosses his arms and scowls out the window.

“YEAH HI GAMZEE.”

Gamzee quirks his eyebrows at Karkat and huffs out a long puff of smoke out the car window.

Gamzee points the cigarette at Karkat, motioning with the burning roll as he talks “now I ain't the sharpest motherfucker in the mother-fuckin’ knife drawer...But I know when a motherfucker is all up and upset…”

Karkat scowls harder and presses himself farther into the leather seat “IT’S NOTHING GAMZEE. JUST SHUT UP AND DRIVE”

Gamzee giggles to himself “eh he heh, I mother-fucking loved that Rihanna song…”

Karkat glares at Gamzee and kicks the little hula girl on his dashboard.

Gamzee smiles at his grouchy best friend. “now don’t up and get sour with me Kar-bro… why don’t you up and tell this clown whats up and got ya panties in such a righteous twist?”

Karkat glares venomously at the stoner and kicks the hula girl on gamzee’s dashboard harder, her little plastic hips swinging wildly. 

“I DON’T WEAR PANTIES YOU POT-HEAD FUCKER, BESIDES THE TEACHERS ARE GOING TO SEE YOU SMOKING ASSHOLE.”

Gamzee chuckles and eyes an old teacher who has been giving Gamzee’s car and the puffs of smoke coming out of it the stink eye. Gamzee smiles cheekily and gives the old woman a cheery little wave. She scowls and turns back to the other students.

“ain’t nothing those hard-ass motherfuckers can say after school hour Kar-bro, so why don’t you up and spill them beans to this old fucker?”

Karkat sighs and picks at a hangnail nervously, he bites his lip and sighs.

“....its about John…”

Gamzee leans back in his seat unsurprised “yeah, its always bout’ that fucker nowadays…”

Karkat looks solemnly out the window “...he invited me over to his house to watch movies…”

In his surprise Gamzee drops his cigarette out the window, he scowls down at it for a moment before turning back to his friend “that's a good thing ain’t it?! Just you and yo crush all curled up in the dark, thats all up and romantic there brother, let me tell you. Up and romantic as fuck!”

Karkat huffs and turns back to Gamzee “THAT'S THE WHOLE FUCKING PROBLEM!!”

Gamzee raises his eyebrows at his short friend “....we must have a pretty damn different idea of what a mother-fucking problem is Kar-bro...this ain’t no problem!” he gestures excitedly with his hands “this is a chance to up and get your romance on!”

Karkat thumps his head against the window “JOHN. IS. NOT. GAY” he punctuates each word with a thump to the window.

Gamzee’s face scrunches up, his nose wrinkling at Karkat’s comment “So? that noise don’t mean much, there's bisexuality, pansexuality, demisexuality, all kinds of mother-fucking sexualities to get up and sexual with.”

“Eww...Gam…”

“all I’m up and saying is, that little fucker is always around you right?”

Karkat nods.

“he’s always up and making sure that you’re ok, always talkin with you about this or that, always laughin’ bout what you say, always getting up and personal in your space with ya…”

“SO? HE THINKS WE’RE BROS” 

Gamzee throws up his hands exasperated “I AIN’T NEVER SEEN NO BRO MAKE NO GODDAMN CHOCOLATE CUPCAKES WITH PINK FROSTING FOR ANOTHER BRO, THAT AIN’T NO BRO THING, THAT’S A GODDAMN BLATANT BUTT-TOUCHIN ACT OF MIGHTY  
STRONG HOMOSEXUALITY THERE KAR-BRO MOTHERFUCKING BLATANT AS I EVER SEEN IT”

Karkat snatches the fuzzy dice from where they had been hanging around the rear-view mirror “IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY YOU FUCKER”

Gamzee lets the fuzzy dice bounce off his head and land draped across his shoulder “thats all fine and good kar-bro, but then he up and wiped off some of that frosting off your cheek” he reaches up the illustrate the scene “all motherfucking soft and slow-like”

Gamzee retrieves another cigarette from the carton and uses it to point at Karkat again “motherfucking BLATANT BUTT-TOUCHIN’ homosexuality”

Karkat shrugs and presses into the seat thinking. Ok so that one part where John wiped frosting off of his cheek, was pretty fucking gay… and he does always get up into his space, always makes sure to try and make Karkat happy…

Maybe….

“ok….” Karkat starts tentatively… “lets say that I believe that maybe, kinda...sorta...John is a little bit gay...what do I do?”

Gamzee lights his cigarette and grins at his friend, he makes a rainbow shape with his hands, little trails of smoke following from his cigarette.

“mother. fucking. romance. bro.”

________________________________________

Shit shit shit sht shit shit shit he just ruined everything!

John knocks outside of the bathroom Karkat is currently sobbing in “Karkat? hey I know you’re in there...please come out?....”

Karkat is sitting in the bathtub, wiping away his tears with the long sleeves of his too-big hoodie “I’m sorry John! I’m sorry please go away?!”

John huffs outside the door “I’m not going to go away kitty...please just come out so that we can talk? I promise that I’m not mad…”

Karkat wipes more tears from around his eyes, god damn it he’s such a fucking idiot…

Karkat had gone to John’s house for the movie night John had suggested. The dork had baked Karkat’s favorite cupcakes, made popcorn and even chose a romantic comedy to watch with Karkat.

After Karkat’s conversation with Gamzee about John’s “motherfuckin’ butt-touchin’ blatant homosexuality” Karkat couldn’t help but be hyper aware of every kind gesture, every brush of his hand against John’s on the sofa cushions and while reaching for the popcorn bowl, the way John leans towards him, the way he sniggers at all of Karkat’s sarcastic comments about the movie…

Maybe…

At the climax of the romantic comedy the bland white heterosexual girl kisses the bland white heterosexual guy in the rain, but the way that John leans in...The way his eyes shine in the light of the television screen…

In that moment it was so easy to forget that John was amazing wonderful him and that Karkat was just….Karkat and that maybe, somehow, some way….John would want him too…

Karkat takes John’s hand from where it had been clutching the sofa cushion. John turns to look at him but before he can say anything Karkat’s lips are on his.

The kiss is soft, tentative, chaste, more of a simple brush of lips than anything.

Karkat opens his eyes and John is so close….

John’s eyes are wide and filled with shock and-

“Karkat...what?...”

Shit.

 

Karkat continues to sob in the Egbert family bathtub. The bear-shaped toilet paper holder that he wedged under the handle of the door wiggles its googly eyes at him as John pounds on the other side of the door.

“Karkat! seriously! come out it’s ok! I just want to talk with you!”

“GO AWAY JOHN!”

“Karkat...this is getting ridiculous you can’t stay in there forever…”

“WATCH ME.”

“ok thats it, I’m getting a butter knife to slide through the lock!”

“WHAT NO YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

“WATCH ME!”

shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

Karkat watches the thin tip of a butter knife poke through the split between doorframe and door with an air of certain doom. The wooden bear toilet-paper holder wiggles its googly eyes and smiles its little painted smile as John wiggles the door.

In that moment Karkat hates that stupid bear toilet paper holder more than he’s ever hated anything in his life.

That fucking wooden bastard.

Desperate to escape the guy he just super-homo kissed at a slumber party Karkat searches the bathroom. Above the toilet he pushes back the curtain of a small window, he unlatches the hatch and climbs through just as John manages to open the door with the butter knife.

“OH COME ON KARKAT!”

John reaches for Karkat’s ankle that is fast disappearing through the window but just then the wooden bear monstrosity toilet-paper holder decides to redeem itself by making John trip and fall flat onto his stupidly gorgeous face.

Haha! Karkat silently thanks the toilet paper holder and bolts through the Egbert’s backyard. He can hear John crashing through the house before John barges through his backdoor.

“DAMMIT KARKAT I NEED TO TALK TO YOU!”

No. no. nope. not happening.

In a skill honed from years of running away from the cops, Karkat vaults over the fence and into John’s neighbor’s backyard in a flit of slim teenager and dark hoodie and keeps running.

John isn’t far behind; his long lanky legs give him an unfair advantage over the tiny Karkat. He’s never run from the cops before but he runs track at their school and is captain of the swim team. His shoe gets stuck on his fence momentarily and he staggers but regains his footing and continues after the fleeing Karkat.

Karkat vaults over another fence but John is right behind him. John leaps and tackles Karkat and they both fall into his neighbor Mrs. Miller’s prize petunias.

Karkat lays sprawled on the flowers, tears in his eyes. John is above him, outlined in moonlight, pinning Karkat to the petunias by his wrists.

“Karkat I just need to talk to you please!”

Tears run down Karkat’s face “WHAT? YOU’RE NOT A HOMO? YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE ME AGAIN AFTER I DID? YOU WANT ME GONE?”

“What? Karkat? No!”

“I KNOW YOU’RE NOT LIKE THAT BUT I CAN’T HELP THAT I LIKE YOU! I’M SORRY! LET’S JUST FORGET ABOUT THIS OK? I CAN’T LOOSE YOU AS A FRIEND!!”

“….Karkat…”

The hands that had been pressing Karkat’s wrists to the petunias move to his back and then travel to tangle in the back of Karkat’s hair.

The kiss is hot and desperate. John’s glasses are pressing against his nose and Karkat can’t bring himself to fucking care because he’s being pressed farther into the flowers and John is deepening the kiss.

He feels lightheaded. Everything smells like John and fucking petunias. He opens his mouth and everything gets so much better and so much worse because he can’t fucking think like this and his heart is pounding and his stomach has a thousand butterflies in his stomach or maybe a thousand angry fire-ants with flamethrowers because he’s heating up. Everything is awful and wonderful at the same time because John is kissing him.

John is kissing him.

JOHN. IS. KISSING. HIM.

Johniskissinghimandeverythingiswondefulohmyfuckinggod

John starts to pull back and nope! He is not going anywhere anytime soon! Karkat fists both hands into John’s t shirt and yanks him right back down where he belongs.

Where he belongs is of course, kissing the ever loving fuck out of Karkat.

John giggles into the kiss and Karkat bites him gently on the lip for that.

John pulls away and- “I like you too Karkat”

Karkat is smiling like the world’s biggest idiot, except John is also smiling like the world’s biggest idiot and they’re both having a ‘who can have the dumbest love-struck grin’ contest and they’re both fucking winning.

John flops down next to Karkat on the petunias, they face each other nose-to-nose, grinning like assholes, they start to giggle, John puts an arm around Karkat and-

 

Mrs. Miller sits on her porch, idly sipping a glass of whiskey and obviously enjoying the scene.

“…well that was surprising….”

Both boys turn to face the middle-aged woman, eyes wide with shock.

“Ain’t every day a couple of boys jump over ya fence and an’ start suckin’ face in ya petunias….”

Both boys turn beet red. Karkat pulls the cords in his hoodie to scrunch the hood up over his face, turning away from the whiskey-sipping woman in embarrassment.

“…um…hi Mrs.Miller…” John awkwardly greets his neighbor.

Mrs.Miller smirks over the whiskey glass “And a how-do-ya-do to you John…”

“…uhhhhhh…..” John seems frozen next to Karkat in the petunias.

“…say John…” Mrs. Miller starts “…Think you can babysit my boys on Thursday?....”

“…..uh……sure?.....” John’s eyes dart to Karkat to try and get some help but Karkat is too busy pretending he doesn’t exist at the moment.

Mrs.Miller’s eyebrows shoot up and her smile turns cunning over the glass “…Really now? Ya sure ya won’t be too busy….say taking this young feller out on a date?”

“no Thursday is fine, I was going to ask him out for Friday…”

Karkat, done pretending he doesn’t exist for a moment pulls his face out of his hoodie “WAIT WHAT?”

“Yeah the movie we just watched? Its sequel is premiering on Friday, it was going to be so smooth like ‘hey Karkat the sequel of this is coming out soon, wanna see it with me’ and then you’d be like ‘yeah’ and it would have been awesome and-“

Karkat places a finger to John’s lips to shut him up “That movie was horrible but yes, I would love to go and see a movie with you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

John takes Karkat’s hand and pulls him off the petunias.

John waves sheepishly to Mrs. Miller “Sorry for ruining your petunias ma’m!”

Mrs. Miller laughs “Pay it no mind Johnnie! You and your boy should come round’ for carrot cake some time, ya hear?”

John grins “Sure thing ma’m!”

They walk back together, fingers still twined together. John brushes off stray dirt and leaves from Karkat but keeps one petunia blossom to tuck behind Karkat’s ear.

“phht…dork..” Karkat smiles and doesn’t take the blossom from his ear for the whole night.


	5. some mother-fucking ghosty explanations bro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamzee tells Karkat whats up in the ghost world and a plot forms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for waiting so long to update! I have two jobs now! two! but I will still have time to update semi-regularly! so keep om the lookout for more in the future!

Gamzee smokes a cigarette as he drives the ghost car, just like he did all those years ago when they were still in highschool.

Karkat rubs his hands together, the hands he had when he was a teenager, he rubs his wrinkle-free face and pulls at his hair. He notices that instead of the turtleneck he had worn into his old age he now wears a black tattered hoodie. He plucks at black converse held together by duct-tape.

Its just like he remembered it.

The same fucking hula girl that was taped to Gamzee’s dashboard swings its little hips to the movement of the ghost-car.

Karkat smiles “you...know….” He pokes the hula girl and makes her sway faster “Jane never could sell this car...she still has it somewhere on her estate…”

She knew how much Gamzee loved this car, both she and Karkat had such good memories of this car, him picking him up after school every day, and for her their first date… She took the hula girl off of the dash though, she used to keep it on her desk…..

Which raises a lot of fucking questions what the fuck.

Karkat looks to Gamzee, there he is like not a day has gone by, smoking a fucking ghost-cigarette in a mother-fucking ghost-car with a goddamn fucking ghost-hula girl swinging its little fucking ghost-hips.

Karkat is suddenly struck by how goddamn fucking stupid this whole fucking thing is.

Suddenly furious with the apparent non-sense of ghost logic, Karkat rips the hula girl from where it had been taped to the dashboard to inspect it properly. He yanks off the hula girl in a rip of tape but the plastic figurine dissolves in his hand. The little figurine reappears in its usual spot, seemingly undisturbed.

Karkat jumps back in his seat.

“THE FUCK WAS THAT!!!” Gamzee turns to look at the now enraged Karkat.

Karkat rips up the tiny hula girl again, this time he grips the window crank, rolls down the window and throws the hula girl out of the open car-window.

By the time he turns around again the hula girl is right where she was, smiling her little plastic smile and playing her little plastic ukulele.

Karkat snarls at the stupid fucking ghost-hula girl and all this stupid fucking ghost shit.

Karkat points one inexplicably teenaged finger at this stupid-fucking ghost hula girl. “FUCK YOU.”

Gamzee tries his best not to laugh at his friend, his smile quivers and ultimately he fails. Gamzee’s head hits the steering-wheel with the force of his wheezing laughter, loud honking laughs fill the car, he hits his head against the car horn and the car beeps in time with his laughter.

Its like both he and the fucking ghost-car are laughing at him.

Karkat crosses his arms and snarls at his friend “YEAH YEAH LAUGH IT UP ASSHOLE”

Gamzee straightens up in the driver’s seat, his eyebrows quirk upwards and it looks like he’s going to speak but his smile comes back and the laughter returns and he crumbles back down in another fit of wheezy honking guffaws.

Asshole.

With a few fading giggles Gamzee straightens up in the car, he waves a hand in front of him and a cigarette obligingly appears between his fingers, he inhales and slowly lets the smoke curl out from his mouth in elegant grey curls.

He smiles at his sulking ghost best-bro.

“It works on memory man…” he explains “Ain’t nothing real no more..”

The cigarette dissolves as to illustrate his point, seemingly turning into ashes and disappearing. “We plenty real...just aint physical, and without whats up and physical, we ain’t BOUND by whats up and physical, ya feel me?”

He waves his hand in front of him and a bicycle horn appears. He honks the horn at Karkat with an amused grin before he lets the horn dissolve into smoke and wisp away.

“We can up and be in this mother-fucking car cause’ we up and remember it” The ghost car instantly turns to black smoke, Karkat clutches at a dissolving car seat futilely, before it wisps away and he falls flat on his ass.

“OW WHAT THE FUCK GAMZEE WARN ME BEFORE PULLING THAT SHIT”

Gamzee stands above him. He amusedly points down to Karkat “See you up and hurt your ass cuz’ you up and expected it to hurt, and you know what falling on your ass feels like.

“whatever dickbag.” Karkat grumbles as he lets Gamzee pull him to his feet.  
Its then that he noticed that they weren’t in Hollywood anymore. As a matter-of-fact they weren’t anywhere anymore.

Karkat looked around at pure, snow-white nothingness for as far as they eye could see. He reached down and pawed at where he stood, it looked like fluffy white shag carpeting but when he snatched at it it, the material went through his fingers like fog. 

Karkat tucked his hands into the armpits of his hoodie, looking around nervously.

“You said that we were going to where John was…”

Gamzee sighed “We are!...We’re here...in a way...but in another way we still have a long way to go…”

Karkat threw up his hands “THEN JUST TAKE ME THERE YOU FUCK”

Gamzee shook his head. “Kar-bro, we gotta have a sit-down and talk about this...I got to explain some shit…” Gamzee rubbed his eyes.

Before them a large dark shape started to take form, black smoke gathered into a vague rectangle shape before solidifying into the familiar shape of Gamzee’s house. 

The dark house loomed before them, brown scraggly grass in the front lawn and the porch was sagging and peeling paint. Gamzee motioned for Karkat to follow him inside and the porch creaked and groaned just like it used to when Karkat would sneak inside late at night after a fight with his dad.

The living room was grey and fuzzy, but then again he never really remembered what it looked like, he would always try not to look in the living room in case Gamzee’s dad was there on one of his rare visits, sulkily smoking or sipping something alcoholic.

He followed Gamzee up the stairs and to the bedroom Gamzee had as a kid. Gamzee opened the door and Karkat followed him into the room. The bed had a purple bedspread, the walls were covered in death metal band posters, a lavalamp slowly churned in the corner of the room and a skull-shaped bong sat on the dresser. Gamzee led Karkat to a large oversized beanbag. they used to lounge and talk there all the time after school, Karkat would cuddle into Gamzee’s bony chest and Gamzee would smoke and listen, sometimes pat his head in sympathy. When Gamzee had a bad day the larger boy would curl up as best he could into Karkat’s lap and talk nonsense until his voice was sore, or cry, or both, while Karkat petted his hair.

Gamzee flopped down onto the beanbag and pulled Karkat down on top of him. They cuddled for a moment and Karkat allowed himself to be comforted by the gesture. He let himself forget how fucking long he had to be without Gamzee and just breathed in Gamzee’s smell of stale cigarette and cheap aftershave.

“We have a long way to go kar-bro, but it ain’t so much about WHERE we gotta go as in what we gotta do…” Karkat felt the tremors of Gamzee’s low speaking voice from where his cheek was pressed up against his neck.

“John has up and made his peace kar-bro, and to get there you have to up and make peace too..”

Karkat looks up at Gamzee, face wan in the low swirling light of the lavalamp.

“Everybody is a little bit right you know? Everybody you know? People have glimpsed past whats up and real and ALIVE and seen a little bit of this place, but no one has the full idea understand?”

Gamzee’s eyebrows quirk up “Fuck brother, I been here 30 or some fucking years and I still don’t up and have the whole idea…”

“forty years…” Karkat corrects him, mumbling into his neck.

“Shit bro.” Gamzee rubs Karkat’s back. “I’m sorry…”

Karkat nuzzles further into Gamzee, and after a moment he continues.

“One thing though is that you can’t have no sourness in your heart where you’re going. Thats where them trials and mother-fucking tribulations come into account.”

Gamzee holds out his hand to Karkat.

“Karkat Mother-fucking Vantas, you died with a whole-lot of sourness in your heart. You will meet five people, five people who have left you up and sour, and bitter and mother-fucking angry.”

Karkat grimaces and clutches Gamzee’s hoodie in a ferocious grip.

“You’re going to have to up and forgive them fuckers little bro…”

Karkat growls and pushes himself off of Gamzee’s chest.

“AND WHAT IF I DON’T WANT TO HUH? WHAT IF I JUST LEAVE THEM TO FUCKING ROT LIKE THEY DESERVE?”

Gamzee looks up at his friend contrite. “....then you ain’t never going to see John ever again….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok comment if you enjoyed! I love hearing from you guys!


	6. heart-shaped fried egg and epiphanies flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to a very important day in Karkat and John's life. fluff chapter to get a better picture of the past. John is a sweetpea.

Karkat Vantas slammed the door to the tiny shithole of a flat he and John shared.

It's been two months since he and John moved to L.A after Karkat miraculously landed a deal for one of the scripts he wrote. They were lucky to find a school in the area that needed a science teacher, because the money that Karkat is raking in at the moment?

Mother. Fucking. Squat.

Its one of those things that are supposed to pay off after their done you know? Sell the finished product and get a decent chunk of change.

That is if anyone fucking likes this shitty trainwreck of a movie! IF NO ONE BUYS THE FUCKING FILM OR GOES TO THE THEATER HE’S GOING TO BE LEFT WITH HIS DICK IN HIS HANDS AS PER FUCKING USUAL.

Karkat slams his head in the entry door passage next to a pile of boxes they still haven’t gotten to unpacking yet. On the wall there's a large mold stain.

When he and John first got there they spent a lot of time just staring at this stupid fucking stain.

John says it looks like a rabbit.

Karkat thinks Johns stupid. Its obviously a dick.

Big ol’ moldy dickstain in his dick apartment IN HIS DICK LIFE MAKING THIS DICK MOVIE.

“Karkat?” John calls from the kitchen “I can hear your angst all the way over here. Come inside! I’ll make you something to eat.”

Karkat slides his face from the wall and sulkily trudges to where John is.

John is in the kitchen wearing the ironic apron that Dave gave him, Dave had found a restaurant in Texas called “Big John’s country steakhouse” and had bought an apron for John at their gift-shop with their logo and a cartoon cowboy on it. It smells fucking delicious in their kitchen, as per usual whenever John cooks. Karkat forgot to eat lunch today, he was too busy yelling at actors for being shit that it completely slipped his mind.

John is facing away from him, cooking and humming to himself. Even in the horrible lighting of their apartment John Egbert is..........

Beautiful.

Karkat is sure that he would prefer something more manly sounding, like “handsome” or “dashing” but those words never really hold up. Those words don’t describe this tall, lanky, dorky man who is humming to the radio and swaying his hips as he cracks an egg into a pan. Those striking blue eyes, that carefree smile.

It also doesn’t describe the way Karkat’s heart clenches like a fucking smitten school girl every time he sees him.

Its beautiful.

That’s the right word.

Beautiful.

Karkat walks up behind John and wraps his arms around his middle. His face presses into John’s back and he nuzzles into the fabric of John’s shirt.

He smells like fabric softener, and baked things, the way it smells outside when it rains.

Home.

He squeezes tighter, and John stops cooking for a moment to chuckle softly at him. He pats Karkat’s hands where they’re bunched up in the ironic apron. John hums contentedly and Karkat can feel the vibration of it against his cheek.

John turns to face him and Karkat feels so complete with the full force of those beautiful blue eyes and that carefree smile directed at him, for him, because of him. Karkat will hoard every single one of John’s loving glances, and his smiles, and his hugs, and his tender touches in his heart until the day he dies.

Until the day he fucking dies.

John always says “and then after!” and promises to haunt houses with him.

Dork.

John leans down to kiss him, it's always been a little bit awkward with Karkat being short as fuck, and John being a tall asshole but they make it work just fine.

A brief peck on the lips, but then they just stay there, eyes closed, noses touching, breathing each other’s air.

It’s a ‘welcome home’ kiss, it's an ‘I missed you’ kiss, it's a ‘I’m so fucking glad I have you’ kiss.

Karkat is not sure how the fuck the universe messed up to fucking colossally that it let him have John, because he sure as fuck that he doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve him.

But fuck if he is ever letting this perfect little dork go.

John’s hands travel up from his shoulders to twine into his hair, John kisses Karkat on the forehead and tugs him to his chest in a firm hug. Karkat’s face is mushed into the ironic apron and the stupid little cartoon cowboy, but he doesn’t care. He hugs John back and he can feel the vibrations of another deep contented hum from John. John rubs his back and kisses his hair.

“I missed you Kitty.”

Karkat groans in agreement. 

“I was kinda thinking of doing breakfast for dinner today, is that ok?”

Happy groan.

“I take it you had a rough day?”

Grunt.

“that bad huh?”

GRUNT.

John chuckles a little and give a parting kiss before he unwinds Karkat’s hands from his waist.

“noooooooooo” Karkat whines like a fucking two-year old, John has taken anything that ever resembled shame from him.

John gives Karkat a quick kiss on the nose. “go sit down, I’ll finish cooking and then we can eat.”

Ok fine, he’ll do it for food. Karkat leaves the kitchen as poutily as possible and goes to sit at the dining room table.

Ok so “dining room” is a little bit of a stretch, it’s one of those apartments where the dining room and the living room are practically the same thing. He sits at the shitty ikea table and watches John cook.

“today was complete shit today.”

“mmhmmm..”

Karkat flops against the table “you cannot believe the kind of shit I have to deal with. I tell you John, the actors in this town are fucking hacks.”

John pokes something with a spatula. “Don’t be too hard on them kitty, I know you want this to be perfect, but nobody is going to match what you want perfectly.”

Karkat huffed against the table. Of course John was right. He had spent the entire day at auditions going through actor after actor for his male love interest of the story. They were all too suave, had the personality of cardboard, relied on their gorgeous abs, or were so stupid that Karkat wanted to strangle them.

This was his magnum opus, his big chance! There is no fucking way that he is giving the most important part to one of those dickholes.

John ruffles his hair and sets down a plate of-

Is that a fucking heart-shaped fried egg?

Its a fucking heart-shaped fried egg on a piece of toast.

Theres other food too, but Karkat is too busy looking at the egg.

John stands above him, obviously impressed with himself. He grins down at Karkat.

“See I was unpacking another box today and I found some cookie cutters! Turns out that you can put them on the griddle and crack an egg inside! Its so cool!”

He kisses Karkat on the hair again. “you get the heart because I love you.”

He sits on the other side of Karkat and sets down his plate. Karkat can’t stop looking at the egg.

This man.

THIS. MAN.

Karkat starts to smile, slow and wide. He grins and starts to giggle. He puts a hand to his mouth to try and stop the breathy little laughs but they only get louder.

Oh my god John made him a fucking heart-shaped fried egg after a hard day at work.

This dork.

This FUCKING dork.

Its so cheesy and stupid and John did it so casually. Its not the first time either! Heart-shaped eggs are a first, but small, casual romantic gestures happen all the time just because John feels like it. Notes in his lunch, calls at work because he missed him and was bored, things he picks up here and there just because he knows Karkat will like them. Every single sappy, adorable little gesture makes Karkat want to curl up into a ball and scream in happiness because holy fuck, this is his life and this is his dork.

Karkat finishes his giggles for the time being, he looks up at John. John looks so amused, and so smug, and so fond of him that it makes him want to cry.

Ok so there is one tear, but he’s smiling, it's the good kind of tear.

This asshole, making him feel feelings.

He takes one of John’s hands from across the table. John leans over to kiss Karkat between his eyes. With their free hands they start to eat.

Now THIS is the kind of moment that will get put into one of his screenplays.

Wait, hold on.

John sits across from him, beautiful and a complete fucking dork, chewing on a star-shaped fried egg and Karkat Vantas has an epiphany.

‘nobody is going to match what you want perfectly’ that's what John said, but that's not quite true is it?

Who was he thinking of when he wrote that screenplay to begin with? Who was he thinking of when he wrote the male lead to begin with?

This fucking dork right here.

Of course none of those actors measured up. Who the fuck can ever measure up to John? Especially when it’s his significant other holding auditions!

Karkat squeezed John’s hand to get his attention. John looks up with a mouthful of cheesy potatoes. Karkat gives him a very serious stare that would be terrifying if the presence of a heart-shaped fried egg in the room didn’t ruin the serious atmosphere.

“John.”

John looks back at him wide-eyed. “Yeah?”

“Come act in my movie.”

“Wait what?”

Karkat leans in further “you heard me, come act in my movie.”

“Do you need, like, extras or something? Do you want me to play a mailman walking by again?”

Karkat shakes his head “nope. lead part.”

John leans back in his seat astonished “Wait, what?”

“Lead part John, nobody else can do it.”

John’s eyebrows furrow and he rakes a hand through his hair “Kitty I have students!”

“Its almost summer vacation! Wait a month, finish out the year with your students, and THEN come act for me!”

John chews on his thumbnail absentmindedly “....We do have a little bit of savings and the money nana left me when she died...we can handle me not working for maybe a little while…”

Karkat squeezes John’s hand tighter. John still looks worried.

“Are you sure this is what you want kitty? I’ve never acted before I have no idea what to do.”

Karkat grins and lifts up John’s hand to kiss it “Just be you and I’ll do the rest.”

John smiles softly back “ok I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love hearing from people so please comment! my tumblr name is the same as my ao3 name if you want to bug me there too! :3


	7. Punch God straight in the face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat is angry in the afterlife. Through a flashback we get a hint at who the first of the five people that need to be forgiven is.

Karkat trudges through the ethereal white wasteland. As he angrily marches through the nothingness his torn converse shoes kick up little puffs of white that soon dissipate. Gamzee leisurely strolls behind Karkat, his long slow strides easily keeping up with the short teenager. 

Gamzee takes a drag of his cigarette, a thoughtful look on his face, he looks to his grumpy friend who has his hands balled up into fists and is trudging as fast as he’s ever seen the little dude trudge. He looks out ahead of them, to the sides, pure white as far as the eye can see. Smoke escapes from his mouth.

“so where we going little bro?”

Karkat snarls and continues to trudge “This is heaven, or whatever right?”

Gamzee shrugs “yeah...kinda I guess…”

Karkat nods, his eyebrows furrow and he doggedly continues to march “Then I’m going to find God or whoever the fuck is up here!”

Gamzee’s eyebrows quirk upwards “Why?”

Karkat stops and whirls around to face his best friend “SO I CAN PUNCH THEM IN THE FUCKING FACE!!!!”

Gamzee sighs “You ain’t gonna punch no god in the face.”

Karkat throws up his arms “FUCKING WATCH ME!!!”

“ITS THEIR FAULT ANYWAYS! IT’S ALWAYS BEEN THEIR FUCKING FAULT! WHOEVER IS UP HERE IS SADISTIC AS FUCK! WHY WOULD THEY PUT ME THROUGH ANY OF WHAT I WENT THROUGH!!!”

Karkat kicks at the nothingness as tears stream down his face. He sniffles and runs a hand through his hair.

“You know...I always thought that in some way I deserved what happened to me you know? Like it was just my lot in life to he the universe’s whipping boy but JOHN?”

Karkat collapses to his knees and punches the nothingness, puffs of white smoke dissolve around his hand and fade.

“HE WAS THE SWEETEST PERSON I EVER KNEW HE DIDN’T DESERVE THAT!!!”

Tears stream down Karkat’s face and he clutches at nothingness that seeps through his fingers.  
“DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE WATCHING SOMEONE GO INSANE?”

“....I watched every day as he forgot more and more…. he burned himself on the stove because he forgot how to use it….he would get so frustrated and apologize but more and more of him just kept slipping away….”

Karkat flops down into the misty floor in a puff of white smoke.

“...what I went through is bad enough sure…” his expression hardens and he curls in on himself “They have a lot to answer for when it comes to me, make no mistake and SOME PEOPLE DO NOT DESERVE TO BE FORGIVEN…. but JOHN??”

Karkat sits up “I WANT TO KNOW WHY!!!!???? I WANT THEM TO TRY AND EXPLAIN IT TO ME! AND THEN!!!”

“I’M GOING TO PUNCH THE RULER OF THIS SHITHOLE RIGHT IN THE FUCKING FACE!!!!”

Karkat screams into the nothingness.

 

There is no answer.

 

no explanation.

 

Only nothingness.

 

 

Karkat sobs into where his face is pressed into the mist. Gamzee sits beside him and pulls his head up into his lap. Karkat curls his arms around Gamzee’s middle and sobs into his shirt. Gamzee hugs him and rubs his back gently. The force of Karkat’s sobs make his shoulder’s shake. Tears run down Gamzee’s face as well and the taller boy rocks them both gently back and forth. After a moment he kisses the top of Karkat’s head.

“...I’m so sorry Karbro...I’m so sorry….” Gamzee tucks his face into Karkat’s hair and sobs with him.  
Karkat bunches his hands into Gamzee’s shirt and just screams, wordless and full of pain.

“HE DIDN’T DESERVE THAT!”

Gamzee looks up and wipes his face. “There ain’t no explanations for that shit Karkat, I wish I could give you one but there just ain’t…”

He pulls Karkat’s head up from his shirt. He wipes the tears and snot off of Karkat’s face and tilts his head to look him in the eye.

“But the kind of things that happened, the ones where it was up and because of somebody? Up and malicious like? NOW is when you get them explanations bro…”

Karkat looks up at him “...did you have to?....”

Gamzee nods and wipes another tear from his face “....yeah bro….I had to up and face some motherfuckers…..”

Karkat is still red-faced from the crying fit and his voice is still shaky “....who?”

Gamzee bites his bottom lip and looks away for a moment “I had to up and see my dad…”

He nods and looks around “And my brother…..”

From where Karkat is against Gamzee’s chest he can see the bullet holes re-appear on Gamzee’s chest. Karkat can see the perfectly round little holes up close, faint trickles of blood ooze from the wounds. He looks up and he’s being held by a corpse. Gamzee’s eyes are glassy and his skin is deathly grey.

“....And the motherfucker who shot me?.....”

Karkat swallows nervously “.....how do you forgive something like that?.....”

Gamzee looks back down at him and his eyes brighten and the bullet holes vanish.

“...He was nothing but a mother-fucking coward….”Gamzee looks out into the nothingness.

“He was a mother-fucking coward and he just…..”

His shoulders bunch up before they relax “....Wasn’t worth it…..”

Gamzee nods “...I know what it’s like to lose yourself to a chemical little bro….”

He shakes his head “....I was more mad that he made you and Janey suffer really…. Janey didn’t deserve to be left alone…..things were finally good….”

He kisses the top of Karkat’s head “Be mother-fucking grateful that you had the time with John that you did….”

Karkat smiles a small shaky smile and Gamzee continues.

“That motherfucker up and overdosed not long after he up and did me in...Little fucker still hasn’t up and found his own peace you know? He spent so long forgetting with drugs that he forgot how to forgive….”

Gamzee pulls Karkat to his feet.

“I know it’s going to be hard little bro...but you have to up and try…..”

Karkat takes a deep breath and nods shakily.

 

 

Its the past again. Karkat Vantas is very little. He is little, but he knows a lot of things. He knows that is you mix blue and yellow together it makes green, he JUST learned how to tie his shoelaces, he knows the stuff that his brother tells him about from the books in the library that they get.

He also knows that he and his dad are...different.

The other kids at school look like their parents. Susy’s hair is red just like her mom’s. Thats how it works right?

He can read now and Kankri taught him how to spell his name.

K  
A  
R  
K  
A  
T

V  
A  
N  
T  
A  
S

Karkat Vantas. That is him!

His dad’s wallet is on the kitchen table. He can see his daddy’s face peering out from behind the little plastic window. His daddy’s eyes aren’t the same color as his eyes, Norman and his dad have the same color eyes. His dad’s skin is darker and his face is thinner and he looks angry is his picture.

They don’t look like each other at all.

He reads the name under the picture.

S  
P  
A  
D  
E  
S

S  
L  
I  
C  
K

Slick!

....Thats not the same either…

Nothing is the same! How come nothing is the same?

His dad strides into the kitchen. His dad always dresses nice, but his shirt is wrinkley and he smells like cigarettes, He never smokes them in the house, but when he has a bad day Karkat knows that he smokes behind the garage when it’s his and Kankri’s story time.

His dad ruffles his hair and Karkat giggles. His dad takes the wallet back and taps Karkat in the nose with it.

His dad smiles at him and laughs too. “quit looking through my stuff you little shit- Ah shoot! wait! Karkat NO!!”

YES! YES! NEW BAD WORDS! Karkat loves new bad words!

“SHIT!!” he gleefully parrots back, his feet kicking underneath the table.

His dad scowls and rakes a hand across his face “...fuck…” he whispers to himself before he catches himself swearing again.

Karkat smiles wider “FUCK!!!” he parrots back to his dad.

His dad leans his head back, his shoulders slump and he sighs.

“I’m fu- FREAKING trying to raise you civilized here kid!”

Karkat rests his head against the countertop and smiles up at him.

His dad smiles crookedly back. “....quit being cute, it won’t get you out of trouble….”

Karkat makes his eyes bigger, he hides the bottom of his face in his too-big sweater, the sleeves cover his hands. He gives his very very best puppy dog pout.

Slick looks down at him and tries his best not to smile.

 

He completely fails.

 

“Ok! Ok! you win!” He ruffles Karkat’s hair “did your brother feed you lunch yet?”

Karkat shakes his head “no.”

“how about a sandwich kid?”

“Yay!”

Slick turns away from him and rummages through the cupboard.

“peanutbutter and jelly or ham and cheese?”

“peanuhbudder!”

“sure thing kid.”

“yay!”

Karkat watches his dad’s back. He watches him take out two pieces of bread from the loaf and slap them down on the cutting board. His eye is drawn to the back of his neck and the color of his skin.

Not the same.

“Not the same…” Karkat says out loud.

“What's not the same kid?” his dad asks absentmindedly, slathering a piece of bread with peanutbutter.

“We.”

Karkat watches his dad tense up, he stops making the sandwich. He glances towards Karkat and quickly looks back to the sandwich.

“I’m not the same as you.” Karkat clarifies.

Slick starts in on the sandwich again, his movements quick and tense.

“YEAH. SO?”

Karkat chews on his sleeve “why?”

Slick slams down the bread knife. Karkat can hear it clatter against the counter. He puts his hands to his hips and looks up, he looks left and right, trying to find the right words. He sighs and looks at Karkat.

Karkat looks right back at him, wide-eyed and expectant.

Slick looks like he’s going to say something but pauses, he starts again.

“....You’re right Kiddo….um….” He pauses again, he can’t find the right words.

“....there was someone else before you got me…another dad...”

Someone else?

“...He gave you to me…..”

Karkat’s little eyebrows furrow “where?” he demands.

“Where what?”

“WHERE HE?”

Karkat watches his dad pace back and forth in the kitchen, he throws his hands up into the air, he rubs the back of his neck, he looks everywhere but Karkat. Finally he licks his lips and answers.

“Gone kid.”

“Gone WHERE?”

Slick shakes his head, his eyebrows furrow, he looks firmly at the floor.

“JUST GONE OK? JUST GONE!”

He looks at Karkat for a moment, he looks sorry. He picks up the plate with the sandwich on it and slams it in front of Karkat.

“JUST. JUST. EAT YOUR SANDWICH OK?”

He walks out of the room and Karkat looks at his sandwich.

 

Later that night after Kankri made him brush his teeth he looks at himself in the mirror. He really looks this time. He’s small, he’s at least a head shorter than the other kids in his class, he’s skinny too. He leans in close to the mirror, he makes a lot of faces, he opens his mouth and looks in. He lost one of his teeth recently, another one is wiggly.

The revelation of another dad still weighs heavily on his mind.

Why is he gone?

He’s wearing his Elmo pajamas. Kankri gave them to him because he doesn’t like Elmo anymore. They hang off of his skinny shoulders.

One day they were driving by a garage sale. His dad said that people try and give away shit they don’t have a use for anymore.

It he like the Elmo pajamas? Is he like all of the old things he saw on those people’s lawn that day?

Did he not want him? Did he decide he was done with him?

He walks out of the bathroom, his toes curl into the carpet of the hallway.

His...his other daddy comes down the hall towards him. He looks off to the side. He still hasn’t looked at him since Karkat asked his question.

Slick picks him up and hold him to his chest. Karkat can feel him sigh, he rises and falls with it. Slick pressed his face into Karkat’s neck for a moment before he looks up again. Slickpats his back and treads towards his bedroom.

Slick sets karkat down on his bed but he doesn’t stop holding him, not just yet. He sits to the side of Karkat and keeps one arm around his waist and the other in his hair, caging him in the thick circle of his arms. He sighs again.

“....goodnight kid…” he says quietly, he squeezes Karkat tighter for a moment and then he turns off the lamp and walks out the door.

Karkat stares at his toes where they are on the sheets.

Its at this moment Karkat decides that something is wrong with him.

He curls in tighter and hugs his knees.

He’s wrong....

WRONG.


	8. the first forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first forgiveness. We get to learn why Karkat's biological dad wasn't around and some of Slick's history.
> 
> Trigger warning for blood/other unpleasantness skip from "He turns to his father and-" to "He turns and even though he knows" and that should get you past everything

Karkat and Gamzee stir in the stark white nothingness between life and the afterlife. Karkat leans back from where he had been hugging Gamzee.

Karkat looks up at Gamzee, eyes still a little red from crying “....So how does this forgiveness shit work?” 

Gamzee nods back at his friend and holds him loosely in his arms “I was up and about to tell you that motherfucking shit before you up and stormed the fuck outta there bro, but sometimes crying is up and necessary you know? Totally understand thismotherfucking emotional bi bro.”

Gamzee sighs “I only learned how by what I had to up and go through you know? Shit bro my momma up and led me here when I first kicked the bucket, my motherfucking momma, bitch up and died when I was born kar-bro, miraculous shit. up and miraculous lady”

Gamzee grins “miracles man.”

“Your guide is someone you ain’t got no beefs with, someone you trust or WOULD trust (I ain’t never met the lady fore’ I up and bled out in that parking lot) and of course your guide has to be someone who is already up and dead.”

Karkat nods. That kinda makes sense…

“Then you up and have to forgive the people who hurt you, one after another, starting with the first person who hurt you, and I mean REALLY hurt you. We all up and ain’t forgiving the sucker that cut you off when driving, or someone who stole your bus card 30 years ago, people who make MOTHERFUCKING LASTING IMPRESSION.”

“Now these motherfuckers? It goes from the first hurt to the last hurt. So something happened to you when you were young gets up and forgiven first.”

Karkat sits up and takes one of Gamzee’s long-fingered hands in his own “....Will you be there with me? When I have to...you know…”

Gamzee frowns and shakes his head. He cups one of Karkat’s cheeks in his hands “Sorry little bro, this is some mother-fucking shit you have to up and face on your lonesome.

Gamzee smiles and looks nostalgic “My momma tho…” he laughs fondly “She REALLY wanted to go with me to meet my dad….up and give him a motherfucking PIECE OF HER MIND for what he up and did…”

Gamzee grins and hugs Karkat to his chest “See brother, ain’t all bad up and being dead, some up and mighty miraculous shit up in here…I can’t wait for Janey to meet her… Not that I want her to die or nothin’, I want her to up and take her sweet-ass time, but it’s just….miracles man…..”

Karkat humms a small non-committal noise where he sits with his head against Gamzee’s chest. “How does it start? what do I do?

Gamzee pats Karkat’s head “when you’re up and ready little bro, you’ll know who and it’ll happen.” Gamzee’s eyebrows furrow “but there ain’t no hurry man...hurt ain’t nothin to mess with...We got plenty of time...all the mother-fucking time there is….”

Karkat shakes his head and smiles weakly “Lets just get this over with...I want to get to John….and i don’t wanna keep you away from your mom….”

Gamzee grins “Got up and forever when ya dead little bro….up and forever to be with family and up and forever for friends up and like yourself.”

Karkat smiles.

Wait.

Karkat stiffens against Gamzee’s chest.

“...Gamzee….I think….”

Gamzee nods solemnly and kisses Karkat on the top of his head “....Yeah….Its up and mother-fucking fine….It’s time….I’ll be up and waiting for you on the other side….”

With a final hug Karkat feels Gamzee start to fade between his arms.

“NO WAIT GAMZEE!”

He catches a glimpse of Gamzee’s crooked smile before he disappears into wisps.

The stark white world shifts and twists around him. The foggy ground shakes and tilts. Karkat leaps up as a section of ground shoots up high above his head into a slim tower before splintering off up at the top and bursting into leaves. More sections shoot up and Karkat falls to the ground. the stark white shivers and starts to fade like a fog dissipating.

Suddenly Karkat is standing in the forest by the railroad tracks. Kankri used to take him down here to collect rocks and look for birds. If he concentrates he can hear the distant chime of far-off trains. He sits on a little dirt path between the trees, blanketed from the sun by the thick leafy canopy. Cicadas buzz obstinately in the foliage.

He hears a gentle laugh behind him before strong arms hook beneath his armpits and haul him up to his feet.  
“yeah….” the stranger chuckles “the first forgiveness can be tough...you’ll get used to how the world works around here in no time…”

“...Uh...Yeah thanks….” Karkat stammers nervously. He turns to the man and.

Kankri.

No. Thats not Kankri.

He looks just like Kankri! If Kankri would have lived longer…

He’s middle-aged and taller than Karkat. He’s wearing a workman’s uniform from the nearby auto factory...That place closed down when Karkat was 10...He smiles easily at Karkat and pulls him into a bear hug.

“I’m sorry you’re dead but it’s so good to see you!” The stranger squeezes him tighter before yanking Karkat back to get a good look at him.

The man ruffles Karkat’s hair and with one hand takes karkat’s chin and tilts his face.

“Awww! Look at that! You inherited your mother’s freckles! Thats so cute!”

Karkat blushes and finally composes himself, he bats the man’s hands away and jumps back a foot, out of range from the handsy man’s grasp.

“WHOA WHAT THE FUCK. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU. STOP FUCKING GROPING MY HAIR. JUST FUCKING STOP.”

The man’s shoulder’s slump and the smile falls from his face before it’s replaced by a smaller, shakier smile.

“....oh...um…” he rubs the back of his neck “....Thats right you were just a baby…..”

His eyebrows furrow and he seems deep in thought for a moment before his grin comes back and he extends a hand to Karkat.

“Introductions then!” He smiles wider “Hi kiddo….I’m your dad! Kankri senior! your brother was Kankri Junior! The senior/Junior thing was your mom’s idea and-”

Karkat jumps back “WAIT WHAT?”

The man smiles and does a quick jazz hands around his face “SURPRISE!”

Karkat flattens down his hair with one hand, he almost doubles over and breathes heavily. Ok so now it makes sense why he looked like Kankri.

“SO YOU’RE REALLY MY DAD?”

“Uh huh!”

Karkat shakes his head, eyes wide. He flails his arms and sputters for a moment.

“WHAT. YOU? I MEAN. HOLY FUCKING CRAP.”

His father puts his hands to his hips and points at Karkat.

“language young man.”

Karkat throws his hands into the air. “YOUNG MAN? I DIED SO FUCKING OLD!!!”

The man clucks his tongue pityingly “but not too old to get chastised by your parents, wait until you meet your mother, she’ll wash your mouth out with soap!”

Karkat shakes his head “DON’T YOU THINK IT’S A LITTLE LATE TO START PARENTING ME NOW? WHERE WERE YOU GUYS??!!”

His father’s smile drops again “....Slick never told you?....”

Karkat huffs “NO HE NEVER TOLD ME SQUAT! WHAT HAPPENED? WHERE WERE YOU GUYS? WHY DID YOU GIVE US TO THAT DICKBAG??”

“....oh boy….” his dad takes off his hat from his uniform and uses it to mop his brow “This is going to be a long story….um…”

Kankri senior snaps his fingers and grins “I got it! Lets just start from the beginning!”

The world begins to twist and change. Kankri senior steadies Karkat with a large hand to his shoulder when he sees his son wobble. The trees of the forest give way to wood paneling, barstools replace boulders and the smell of fresh air and old metal gives way to the smell of stale beer and cigarettes.

Kankri senior nods at the bar around him, obviously impressed with himself. Shadowy patrons of the bar sit in booths smoking or sip beer. A shadow bar-tender cleans a glass.

“Yup!” Kankri senior chirps “This is the place!”

By the bar two shadowy figures form. One in a suit, one in a workman’s uniform. Karkat ducks around the bar to get a good look at their faces, he stands right next the the shadow bartender and the shadowy figure dissipates to let him through.

Its his dad. Well, both of his dads…

Slick looks so much younger than how he remembers him. Less scars and less anger, he sits next to Kankri senior with a cigarette in his hand, sipping a beer with a loopy smile on his face.Kankri Senior looks just as inebriated, leaning towards the other man with a stupid smile plastered across his face.

“Barkeep! barkeep!” Slick drunkenly flails around “Come the *hic* fuck over here we need another round over *hic* here!”

The shadow bartender refills their cups “haven’t you boys had enough?”

Slick cocks his head “PSSHHT! I’ll be the judge of *hic* that! b-sides…” He motions towards Kankri senior “Itsh a SHELEBRATION! HE’S GONNA BE A DAD! AGAIN!”

“trust me boys the excitement around new kids fades after your old lady pops out the third, then it’s just business as usual.” the shadow barkeeper replies.

 

Memory Slick flicks him off “WELL FUCK YOU! DISH, DISH, AIN’T JUST ANY KID!” Slick wraps an arm around Kankri Senior’s back, and Kankri slumps against the counter. Slick pats the almost-unconscious Kankri senior on the face “DISH MY GOD-KID HE MADE YOU FUCK! I’M THE GODDAMN GOD-DAD!”

The shadow barkeeper puts his hands into the air “whatever.” The shadow turns to walk away and dissipates into smoke and fades.

Slick flicks off the barkeeper and slicks out his tongue “BLEHHHHH!!!” Kankri senior bursts into a fit of giggles where his face is pressed into the counter. Slick joins the giggle fit and it’s so unlike the Slick Karkat came to know, more like how he was when Karkat was young.

Kankri senior hums contentedly against the counter-top and Slick takes a drag of the cigarette before flicking the spent butt into an empty beer glass. Kankri’s loopy smile drops and his eyebrows furrow.

“....Slick?” he mumbles against the counter.

“yea?” Slick turns towards his friend

Kankri senior frowns “...how….how...hooooow am I goin’ a pay for dis baby?”  
He sits up in his barstool “The factory isn’t….Its isn’t a good place anymore...the conditions are terrible...they’re forcing overtime and slashing wages….the fuck am I supposhed to pay fer a babyyyyy?”

Slick nods and leans back in his chair, he almost falls over before he catches himself. He smiles at Kankri and tugs at the lapels of his suit.

“you should join the crew.” he tugs at his lapels and smirks “Itsh how you get RESPECT in this town!”

“REALLY?” Kankri smiles and bats his eyelashes up at Slick “Do I get to dress like a pussy too?”

Slick scowls down at Kankri and pushes him off his barstool “FUCK YOUU MAN RESHPECT THE SUIT!”

Kankri slides off the stool and to the floor in a fit of drunken giggles.

He lays on the beer-sticky floor and curls in on himself.

“thingsh gotta change Slick….they...they...can’t treat people like that...thingsh gotta change….

 

 

The bar warps and changes into a dark church basement. Rows and rows of shadowy men in workman’s uniforms fan themselves with union pamphlets in the stifling heat. Kankri stands above them on a chair.

“THEY CAN’T TREAT US THIS WAY! TOGETHER WE CAN DEMAND BETTER CONDITIONS! DENTAL CARE! BASIC HUMAN NEEDS!”

The shadow workers cheer and clap. They hoop and holler and throw their pamphlets into the air with joy.

“WE CAN CHANGE THINGS FOR THE BETTER!!!”

After the meeting the basement is left empty, pamphlets strewn about on folding chairs.

Slick slides in from the doorway, his face drawn.

“Slick!” Kankri senior cheerily greets his friend but his smile falls when he sees the look on Slick’s face.  
In one smooth move Slick pins Kankri senior to the wall.

“YOU FUCKING IDIOT” Slick hisses “WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU GOTTEN INTO?”

Kankri pushes Slick off of him “WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN INTO? REALLY? THIS COMING FROM MR.MAFIOSO? I AM HELPING PEOPLE! I AM CHANGING THINGS FOR THE BETTER!”

Slick snarls at Kankri “DO YOU FUCKING HAVE A DEATH WISH? YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHO OWNS THAT FACTORY! AND YOU KNOW DAMN WELL THAT THE CREW DOES UNION BUSTING FOR THEM!!”

“FUCK YOU SLICK!” Kankri senior seethes “THIS IS ABOUT JUSTICE! THE GREATER GOOD! THE CHANCE TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE!”

Slick looks like he’s about to explode with fury “REALLY? REALLY? THATS GREAT AND ALL, BUT IN THE REAL WORLD YOU’RE GONNA GET YOUR ASS SHOT YOU FUCKING MORON!!”

Slick picks up a handful of union pamphlets from a nearby chair and throws them at Kankri “TAKE YOUR FUCKING SHIT AND LEAVE!!”

Kankri throws the pamphlets down to the ground “THATS IT? JUST PICK UP EVERYTHING AND RUN AWAY? THATS HOW YOU’RE SOLVING THIS??”

Slick grabs Kankri’s shoulders and shakes them “BULLET. IN. YOUR. DUMB. ASS. I’M WARNING YOU!! JUST LEAVE WHILE YOU STILL CAN!!!”

“.....please….” he adds softly. He looks into Kankri’s eyes, imploring him “....please for once in your life do the smart thing….”

Kankri senior’s eyebrows furrow, he presses his lips together and he looks right back into Slick’s eyes. He shakes his head.

“......I can’t Slick…...these people need me…..”

Slick snarls and turns away from Kankri.

“Slick...I….” Kankri begins.

“YOU’RE SUCH A FUCKING IDIOT!!!” Slick kicks down a group of folding chairs and he storms out “DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU!!!”

 

The basement warps and bends, the trees reappear and once again they are in the forest by the railroad. This time they are in the part of the forest that gives way to the old abandoned railway lines, old boxcars stand desolate on their sides, brittle and rotten. Gravel crunches under their feet as they walk. Its the dead of night, moonlight illuminates the trees and the gravel, long shadows stripe against the ground.

Karkat looks around at the surroundings “....Why the forest again?” He turns to his father and-

Thick bloody rope burns wind themselves around Kankri senior’s wrists, his workman’s uniform is torn and bloodied, his face is bruised and swollen, his hair is in sweaty tangles around his face. A single bullet wound marks his chest. His lip is split and when he turns to speak and Karkat can see the disgusting way his jaw hangs and can hear the sickening crunch of broken bones with every word as the ghost speaks through a severely broken jaw.

“........becaussssse…...thissss…..issss……...wherrreeeee….I…...died………..”

A van rolls through the wooded area and shadowy figures in suits exit the vehicle with quick business-like precision. They open up the trunk and the hooded figure inside gets a good kick to one of their faces before they restrain him again, the ropes cutting against his wrists. They drag the figure from the trunk, kicking and screaming to a nearby tree. They quickly tie him to the tree and the hood is yanked off to reveal Kankri Senior.

A shadowy suit man stalks in front of the battered man “....any last words?....”

Their only answer is a scowl and bloody spit. The shadowy suit wipes up the blood from his suit in a quick flash of a handkerchief before a shotgun is lowered to Kankri senior’s chest.

The shot reverberates through the woods, and birds flee from their roosts and into the night.

The shadowy men get back into their van and drive away calmly, and the forest returns to its calmness, only the hunched figure on the tree and the blood trail from where he was dragged from the trunk is left.

Karkat can smell the blood in the air and the gunpowder and he hunches in on himself horrified. He turns and even though he knows that logically you can’t throw up as a ghost, his body wretches anyways, dizzy and sick to his non-existent stomach.

Kankri senior wraps an arm around Karkat’s shoulders and helps him back to his feet. Karkat crumples into his arms and sobs. Kankri senior rubs his son’s back.

The forest lightens and they are back in the sunny cicada-filled memory. Kankri senior’s wounds fade and the blood vanishes. Leaving nothing but the father and son, Kankri senior rocks Karkat back and forth between the trees and Karkat continues to sob.

“OH MY GOD! OH MY FUCKING GOD! I HAD NO FUCKING IDEA I’M SO SORRY!!!”

Kankri senior holds Karkat “.....language son…” he teases gently before his mood turns serious “I’m sorry you had to see that…..” He kisses Karkat on the top of the head.

“...WAS SLICK?-” Karkat begins.

his father shakes his head “No he wasn’t one of the ones who killed me….he tried to save me but I was too stubborn. Karkat sniffles in his arms and Kankri rubs soothing circles into his back.

“I’m ashamed to say that I was thinking more about the ‘greater good’ and ‘justice’ than my family.” He pauses to lift Karkat’s sniffling face and press a chaste kiss to his forehead “you and your brother will always be my greatest good, I’m sorry that I ever forgot that….I never wanted to leave you….or your brother….or your mom….I’m so sorry….”

Karkat smiles shakily through his tears and his dad gently wipes them from his cheeks.

“.....I forgive you……”

His father smiles and the forest starts to fade around them.

Kankri senior smiles and laughs brightly, his own cheeks stained with tears. “....Thank you….when you’re finished….me and your mom will be waiting for you too ok?” he hugged Karkat tightly and with a puff of smoke disappeared.

Stark nothingness once again greeted Karkat. A familiar hand once again rested on his shoulder and he turned to look at Gamzee. He lept into Gamzee’s arms and nuzzled into his shirt, grinning and crying and laughing at the same time. Gamzee smiled and hugged him back.

“...I knew you could do it little man….one down….four left to go…..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! sorry I took forever updating! I love hearing from you guys and I really want your reactions to this particular chapter! tell me what you think!!


	9. Kankri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to some scenes in Karkat's childhood that have to do with Kankri. This should help fill in the gaps in Karkat's childhood and if you read it carefully you should be able to figure some stuff out. Kankri is a little meaner in this chapter than I would usually write him but keep in mind that Kankri has gone through a heck of a lot of shit and is angry as fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for blood skip when the two suited men show up if you have a problem with that kinda stuff.

Karkat Vantas walked next to his brother Kankri Vantas on the trip to the library they went on every thursday. Karkat’s tennis shoes scraped along the sidewalk as he held the sleeve of Kankri’s sweater. He sniffled in the autumn air and wiped his nose on his own long sweater sleeve. In Kankri’s other arm he held a bag of books they were going to return once they got to the library. Kankri was at least a foot taller than Karkat, already growing into a young spindly teenager. The sun sets earlier this time of year and the sky is already painted with oranges and golds.

Kankri held his finger aloft “once we get to the library I think we’re going to start you on the basics of society and government! We’ll see what they have, but it’s best to remember that in our white and male dominated society it’s best to take the knowledge presented with a grain of salt. You have to look at if the author has an agenda and to look to their primary sources, then you look at WHO wrote the primary sources and see if THEY have an agenda! Opinions and facts get mixed together so easily so its important to be critical when presented with information-”

Honestly Karkat wasn’t listening. He watched as Kankri rattled on about political and historical bias, the red sweater sleeve that wasn’t in Karkat’s grasp flailing wildly. He looked around.

Honestly they didn’t live in a very good neighborhood. It was all chain link fences and big barking dogs and people who had dark smudges under their eyes from working shift after shift at dead-end minimum wage jobs.

Kankri likes to tell him about what’s “fair” a lot. He says that a lot of things are wrong with the world and that it will take a lot of hard work from the both of them to set things straight.

The thing is though….Karkat is like….8 years old….

He doesn’t want to solve the world. He wants to read books that aren’t about boring stuff like the legal battles for equal rights or the suffragettes. He wants to find a dog in the neighborhood that doesn’t bark and froth when you go near it and pet it. He wants to play in the park outside of the library instead of going inside with Kankri.

He feels selfish for wanting those things. 

He usually just goes with Kankri anyways….

Today is going to be different.

Karkat stops walking. Kankri keeps walking and prattling for a moment, the sleeve Karkat holds stretching before he notices. He looks back to his brother, a question in his eyes.

Karkat looks at the ground. His shoes are scuffed and the sidewalk is cracked. He looks up and gives his brother a hard stare.  
“I don’t want to go to the library today.”

Kankri rolls his eyes at his brother, he tugs back and turns towards the direction of the library again. “Don’t be so dramatic Karkat Come on.”

Karkat stays put. He’s holding his ground this time “I said I don’t FUCKING want to go to the library today.”

That gets Kankri’s attention “LANGUAGE YOUNG MAN!”

Karkat throws up his hands in exasperation “SO? DAD TALKS LIKE THAT ALL THE TIME.”

Kankri huffs and grits his teeth. “....that man isn’t our father…” he whispers quietly.

Karkat knows that. logically he knows that. But he’s a kid and he doesn’t want to think about that right now.

“SHUT UP YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!”

Kankri yanked his sweater sleeve out from Karkat’s grasp. Kankri huffs and looks away “...You’re being such a baby. You don’t remember anything….”

Kankri looks back up at Karkat “....But something awful happened...something terrible happened to a good person….and it’s OUR job to fix it…..It’s going to be our job to fix everything!”

Karkat balls his hands up into fists “WHY US? WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE US??”

Kankri shakes his head. “You’re too young to know yet Karkat…” he places a hand on Karkat’s shoulder “...but because of who we are….where we came from...it’s our job…”

Kankri turns and starts to walk to the Library.

Karkat follows him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Karkat knows that Slick and Kankri have never gotten along. Kankri takes his dinner up to his room to study, instead of staying with him and Slick at the dinner table.

When his dad goes out to work at night he can hear them argue in hushed tones.

“Its not right!”

“Kid, get out of my way.”

“No! I’m not going to let you this time! you hurt people!”

“You don’t understand!”

Karkat pretends to not know what's going on.

Sometimes when Slick comes home he smells like blood and metal. In the bathroom trash bin Karkat found bloody gauze. Slick walks stiffly, his knuckles scraped and has a black eye. Kankri glares daggers into Slick and refuses to say a word to him. Slick tells him it’s nothing.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kankri says that he wants to be a lawyer when he grows up. He certainly has the grades for it. Even from this dismal neighborhood Kankri is going places.

Karkat sits on the end of Kankri’s bed, half-listening as Kankri lectures him about the different types of democracy.

Kankri bites one of the long sleeves of his sweater as he pours over the book.

“see Karkat...When I become a lawyer I’ll be able to fix everything…”

Karkat looks up from where he had been drawing hearts on notebook paper instead of taking notes on Kankri’s lecture.

“Fix what?”

Kankri smiles tiredly at his little brother “....everything…”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come on Karkat.” Kankri pulls out the romance novel out of the history textbook Karkat was supposed to be studying “Please take this seriously. You’ll need this later.”

Karkat huffs and flops back against the bed “NO I WON’T KANKRI.”

Kankri hits Karkat gently upside the head with Karkat’s copy of “The lovelorn princess volume three”.

“Really? You won’t need this? What reputable lawyer doesn’t know the basis of law?

Kankri has always had it planned out for Karkat. They’ll both become lawyers and change “everything” , fix “everything”.

“What if I don’t want to be a lawyer?!”

Kankri turns to him. Karkat fidgets under his gaze.

“What would you be besides a lawyer Karkat?”

Karkat bites his lip and looks away “....I want to tell stories….I want to tell stories about love and happiness and-”

Kankri huffs “People don’t need stories! You’re so smart Karkat, would you really waste your life telling stories?”

“ITS NOT A WASTE! DAD SAID-!”

Kankri throws the textbook, it slams against the drywall of Kankri’s room, making a dent in the paint. “FOR THE LAST TIME THAT’S NOT OUR DAD!!”

Kankri’s hands ball up into fists in his sweater sleeves and Karkat can hear the way the stitches strain and pop with the force. Kankri’s face is red.

“You’re supposed to be on MY side not his!! Do you even know what he is?? What he’s done???”

Kankri glares at his bedspread “....HE gave EVERYTHING to give us a better life...EVERYTHING! And you would waste it telling stories?”

Karkat feels like he’s about to cry. Usually he can go to Kankri about anything, but whenever his dad or his other dad is involved Kankri can get so mean. 

Slick bursts through the door, his tie undone and his face unshaven, obviously woken from a nap “WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH ALL THE YELLING?? KARKAT ARE YOU OK?”

Karkat bursts into tears and launches himself into Slick’s arms. Slick pats his back, obviously confused.

Kankri looks at him like he’s a traitor.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s been awkward between him and Kankri now. They walk together like they always do to the library but this time the silence is strained. Kankri doesn’t look back at Karkat and he doesn’t let Karkat hold his sweater sleeve. Kankri walks ahead of him, eyes firmly on the horizon.

Karkat looks at his feet.

The snow on the sidewalk is grey from pollution. He kicks at the grey mush. He should probably start wearing his winter boots. Usually Kankri would have nagged Karkat into wearing his boots but he didn’t this time.

He’s barely said a word to Karkat.

“....Kankri….I….” he starts.

Kankri doesn’t let him finish. He looks straight ahead as he replies. “Theres a lot of things you don’t know about Karkat….Things that you’re too young to remember and things you’re too young to be told about….”

Kankri’s knuckles tighten around the strap of his bookbag “But when you’re old enough I’ll tell you….And then you’ll understand…”

Karkat bites his lip and timidly reaches up for Kankri’s sweater sleeve. He hold the fabric and looks off sheepishly to the side. Kankri smiles weakly down to him.

“.....Someday you’ll understand…..”

Karkat is about to respond when they hear a yelp coming from an alleyway. 

Kankri looks up “It came from over there….” He crosses the street.

“Kankri wait maybe we shouldn’t-” Karkat whispers, tottering behind his brother, pulling him back by the sleeve.

Kankri puts a finger to Karkat’s lips to hush him up and peers inside the alleyway. Karkat peeks around the corner too.

 

In the alleyway behind the hardware store a man in a workman’s uniform has his hands up, desperately trying to placate two men in suits.

“look I already paid my protection money this month I can’t-”

His words are cut off by one of the suited men punching him sharply in the gut. The old man crumples in on himself with a strangled yelp. The other suited man straightens the old man out and presses him back against the brick wall.

“Yeah well…” the suited man says conversationally as the man writhes in pain, “The fee just doubled.”

The man stares wide-eyed at the two men pleading “I don’t have that kind of money! The store is just getting by as it is and-”

Another punch to the gut. Blood spurts from between the old man’s teeth as he wheezes from the force of the punch. The men in suits chuckle. One pulls out a lighter. He flicks open the lighter quickly lights it. The old man watches the flame intently. Orange shadows dance across the faces of the suited men.

“...We wouldn’t want anything to happen to your shop would we? Like say...An unexplained fire? Perhaps with you still inside?”

“No please anything!-”

Karkat turns back from the alley. This is getting too scary. They should get dad. He pulls at Kankri’s sweater sleeve.

“Kankri please! We have to get out of here!”

Kankri doesn’t budge from his spot.

“....Kankri?”

Karkat can see Kankri’s hands balled up into fists. His mouth turned into a snarl his face red with rage.

“This isn’t right. THIS ISN’T RIGHT.”

Karkat looks wide-eyed at his brother and tugs harder “Kankri please!!”

Kankri turns to his brother and then back to the alleyway. “....Our dad...Our real dad….He always helped people….ALWAYS…..”

Kankri turns to walk into the alleyway, Karkat tries to tug him back but Kankri is too strong. He watches his brother march into the alleyway. Karkat is frozen to the spot with fear.

“HEY! LEAVE HIM ALONE!!” Kankri demands.  
The men only laugh at him.

“Get lost kid. Go home to your mommy.”

That seems to set something off in Kankri. He runs and pushes the suited man off of the old storekeeper. The storekeeper crumples to the ground before stumbling away, his hands to his ribs. The short teenager gets a punch to the jaw for his troubles from the second suited man. The first suited man looks up from where he had fallen to the ground, he wipes a small drip of blood from his nose and snarls.

“You little shit.”

He pulls out his gun and aims it at Kankri.

For a moment it's like time has stood still. The crack of the gunshot rings in Karkat’s ears its so loud. It smells like metal and snow. For a brief moment Kankri stands still, and then like a marionette with the strings cut he crumples to the ground. Karkat is screaming.

He’s screaming and the men are looking at him.

For a brief moment the man with the gun looks to Karkat and back to his gun like he can’t believe what he just did in front of a child.

The back door of the hardware shop slams open. Slick rushes out a bag in his hand.

“WHAT DID YOU-” He sees Kankri and drops down to his side. Dollar bills from the bag flit out and whirl in the air of the alleyway and get stuck in the pool of blood around Kankri. 

“KANKRI!!!” Kankri’s blood is seeping out onto the fresh snow. Slick frantically puts a hand to the bullet wound to try and stop the bleeding but Kankri isn’t breathing anymore.

Karkat is still screaming.

“SIR I-” The gunman starts to explain.

Karkat stands in the mouth of the alleyway. “DADDY!!!”

Slick looks up at Karkat wide-eyed and panicked “KARKAT DON’T LOOK!!”

Tears stream down Karkat’s face. The man with the gun looks terrified. Karkat runs from the alley.

“KARKAT WAIT!!!” Slick calls out to him.

Karkat keeps running.


	10. The second forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat confronts Kankri and we see things from Kankri's perspective. Meulin is introduced and so is "The tall man". I'm sure you'll be able to figure out who the tall man is.
> 
> Trigger warning for insanity, child neglect, and tasers.

Karkat Vantas paced back and forth in the fluffy white void. Gamzee sat back on a beanbag chair materialized from the nothing. With a flick of the wrist a lit cigarette materialized in between his fingers. Gamzee took a puff and watched his friend pace to and fro.

“.....Kark bro….I ain’t up and recognizing why this is such a big deal….”

Karkat made a face at Gamzee and pulled at his hair “IT IS A BIG DEAL!!!”

Gamzee flopped against the beanbag. His little buddy can up and really be dramatic sometimes. “You know who you up and have to forgive next, thats a mother-fucking good thing.”

“BUT IT’S KANKRI!!”

“yeah?”

Karkat kicked a puff of white “......”

Karkat sat next to Gamzee and Gamzee put an arm around his shoulder. “You were mother-fucking eight years old man, the fuck were you gonna up and do against them mafioso bitches?”

“...he was the one who got hurt….so why am I angry at him?”

Gamzee nodded at the nothingness and squeezed Karkat tighter “You know best friend...People can up and hurt you even when they don’t up and mean to, you feel me? People can have all of the best mother-fucking intentions and still leave a mother-fucker up and sour.”

Karkat nodded. “I fucking guess that makes sense…”

Gamzee laughed and rubbed Karkat’s side where his arm was around him “Thats it! motherfuckin look at you! Getting the hang of all this mother-fucking ghost shit!”

Gamzee started to fade where he was next to Karkat. Karkat huffed.

“I guess its fucking time then….” Karkat squeezed his hand.

Gamzee faded and fell through Karkat’s fingertips, wisping away like cigarette smoke in the wind.

The first thing that changed was the light. The white light of the nothingness turned gold and orange, the sky streaking with brilliant strokes of light that fell across Karkat’s face warmly. Like sand, the nothingness gained mass and built up on itself in thick heavy clumps into the shapes of dingy worn-down houses. Thick strands of nothingness broke off like spiderwebs and wound themselves into silvery webs before hardening and turning into dingy chain-link fences. The smell of car exhaust, decay and the cool wetness of winter filled the air. The ground shivered and cracked into sections of sidewalk and then those pristine sections broke again, some cracked, some shattered into spiderwebs, just like they had been all of those years before.

The ground turned cold and wet. Karkat stood up and brushed off thick globs of polluted snow from his pants.

Down the street, on the way to the library, stood a solitary figure. Karkat jogged towards the figure and he turned to look at him.

There Kankri stood, swathed in the gold light of the sunset, in the desolate and broken town they once called home.

His eyes were blank, and in the middle of his chest sat a bullet hole. His red sweater was drenched in his blood, and red droplets dripped from the too-long sleeves like it was melting off of him. Karkat could smell blood and metal and snow. For a moment, bloodied dollar bills flitted across the divide between them like autumn leaves.

The wound faded. Kankri’s eyes gained back their spark and the sweater dried. He smiled at Karkat.

“Welcome little brother, I-”

Karkat whirled and punched him right in the fucking face.

Astonished, Kankri staggered back and fell right on his ass, his mouth agape and one hand to his cheek.

Karkat pointed an accusing finger at Kankri “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU??”

Karkat threw up his arms and flailed wildly “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT???!!!”

Karkat stuck out his front teeth in a mock overbite and crossed his eyes “DURR! I’M KANKRI! HEY LOOK A MAFIA GUY WITH A GUN! LET’S PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE!! WHILE I’M AT IT, WHY DON’T I JUST SLATHER MYSELF IN BARBEQUE SAUCE AND TICKLE A TIGER’S BALLS??”

Kankri popped up from where he had fallen to the ground, mouth pinched in outrage. He pointed at Karkat.

“OK SO FIRST OFF? LANGUAGE YOUNG MAN!!”

Karkat threw up his hands “AGAIN! WHAT IS WITH MY FAMILY AND THIS?? I DIED IN MY EIGHTIES!!!”

Kankri haughtily turned up his nose and quirked his eyebrows “I don’t care HOW old you died! You’re still my little brother and I’m still in charge of you.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Kankri put a finger to his brother’s lips “bad words are for underachievers Karkat.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHHH” Karkat whirled around and viciously kicked a ghost trash can. The can dumped over and vanished before appearing upright again. Kankri lazily picked at his nails.

“I. FUCKING. FORGOT. HOW. INFURIATING. YOU. WERE.” Each word is punctuated by a kick to a different piece of scenery. Chain-link fences, walls, a streetlamp.

Karkat whirled around back to his older brother. Karkat glared at Kankri and Kankri shifted slightly, uncomfortable under Karkat’s harsh gaze.

“....You’re a fucking idiot.” Karkat states this as a fact.

Kankri looks affronted “EXCUSE ME?”

Karkat pokes him in the chest “YOU! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO DO THAT!”

Kankri looks away. He doesn’t have to ask what Karkat’s referring to.

“I...I….He was getting hurt Karkat….I couldn’t just do nothing….”

“WE COULD’VE CALLED THE POLICE! WE COULD’VE GOTTEN HELP! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO GO CHARGING IN THERE LIKE AN IDIOT TO FACE MOBSTERS WITH GUNS ON YOUR OWN!”

Kankri cringes.

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO FIGHT HIM! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO GET SHOT! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO MAKE ME WATCH YOU DIE!!”

Karkat hunches towards his brother, and Kankri timidly puts an arm around him. The teenage Karkat fades and becomes shorter. His hands get smaller where they’re bunched up in Kankri’s sweater. Kankri rocks his eight year old brother back and forth as he sobs. He kisses him on the top of his head and rubs his back.

“....I’m sorry Karkat….I’m sorry…..you’re right….I’m an idiot….”

Karkat sniffles into Kankri’s red sweater and looks up at him, tears in his eyes.

“....Why?....Why did you do it?”

Kankri bites his lip. a tear streaks down his face and he wipes it with one of the long sleeves of his over sized sweater.

“.....because I was angry…..because I was sad….because I was dumb….”

Kankri stoops down to Karkat’s level and wipes his tiny freckled face with the sleeves of his sweater.

“And since you died so old..” he teases for a moment “....I guess its ok to tell you now….”

The street fades, and the world condenses into a small room. The hazy sunlight changes color and turns into bright early-morning light that cascades into the room from a window dressed in lacy hand-made curtains. A small kitchen is beneath the window, and beyond the kitchen is a small living room. It reminds Karkat of the small apartment he and John shared together in L.A. This apartment though, seems lighter and has had some hard work put into it to make it a home.

The furniture is old, with scrapes, and dings, and pearled fabric, but someone has taken good care of them. Its obvious that the people who live here don’t have much, but it's clean and homey.

In the living room there's a small basket of toys, a family with a child must be here.

A rocking chair off to the side starts to move back and forth, a figure forms within before focusing and gaining color.

She’s a petite woman, with long silky black hair, freckles, and pleasant green eyes. She rocks back and forth, her hands settled comfortably around a very large belly. A little boy appears by her side.

Kankri nudges Karkat “Look thats me!”

The little boy puts both hands on her stomach “....So you’re my little brother….”

The woman laughs “Yes Kankri.”

The boy looks up at her “when will he get here?”

She looks worried for a moment, her eyebrows furrowing “....he’ll be here soon….very soon….”

Kankri senior places his arms on Kankri Junior’s shoulders. He smiles down at Kankri. “And as the big brother you’ll be the one to show him the ropes! Tell him what's what! Its going to be your job ok?”

Kankri junior nods seriously.

Kankri senior smiles and puts a hand over where Kankri junior’s hand is still on his mother’s belly.

“you two will make quite the team.” he beams down at his son.

Little Kankri smiles “...hear that little brother?....we’re gonna be a team….”

 

The couple and the boy fade. The light outside the window turns dark, peppered by the lights of the city and stars. The woman and Kankri senior sit by the kitchen table. Little Kankri peeks out of his bedroom.

The woman and Kankri senior sort through what looks like piles of bills, some of them stamped in angry red letters. The woman rubs her forehead.

“....I don’t know how we’re going to do this Kankri…”

Kankri senior takes her hand in his. She smiles tiredly at him and he kisses her on the forehead.

“....We’ll figure something out…”

 

Karkat nudges his brother “...Is that?...”

Kankri smiles back at his little brother “...Yeah...that's mom…”

 

The room becomes light again and the figures at the table fade. Two figures materialize in the living room, one large, one small, both sitting cross-legged. On the floor of the living room Kankri senior and Kankri junior fold piles and piles of what looks like union pamphlets.

Kankri junior finishes a pamphlet and stops to look at it. “...So whats this union about?”

Kankri senior smiles down at his son “Its about justice.”

 

The walls of the apartment burst open and light bursts into the scene. The furniture fades, the carpet is replaced by old sidewalk. Buildings materialize and both brothers find themselves under a green and white striped awning. Its Chen’s supermarket. Karkat recognizes it from his neighborhood. When he was little, old man Chen would pass him a piece of hard candy at the register when his brother took him grocery shopping.

Old man Chen doesn’t look so old, as he waves to Kankri Senior and his mother exiting the store. Little Kankri is holding their mom’s hand and is sucking on the same type of hard Chinese candy Chen used to slip Karkat. 

Kankri senior takes the grocery bag from his wife “Careful Meulin, You don’t want to strain yourself!”

‘Meulin’ apparently her name is huffs, but lets her husband take the bag from her arm. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”

Kankri senior holds his finger aloft and Karkat realizes where Kankri junior must have learned the gesture from “Still! its best to be careful!”

A black suv rounds the corner, and two men in suits quietly enter the laundromat across the street. The old black woman who owns the laundromat quickly hands over a brown paper bag. One of the men looks in to the bag. Seemingly satisfied, he nods and exits again. They get into the van and speed away. The old woman is shaking, her eyebrows furrow and she looks like she wants to run after the van and snatch it back, but a resigned look falls over her face. She squares her shoulders and gets back to work.

Meulin scowls “Filthy crew. Taking what they didn’t earn.”

Kankri senior shakes his head “Poor Mrs. Loretta, If this community just banded together….”

Meulin smacks his arm lightly “No what we really need is to stomp them out like vermin!”

Kankri senior frowns slightly “...I like to think they’re just confused...We know WHY they do it...it's an easy way to get what you want, but if they learn other ways…”

Meulin looks at him pityingly “Your heart has always been too tender… There is no such thing as a good member of the midnight crew….They’re all filthy animals if you ask me…”

Kankri senior frowns. He passes the bags to Kankri junior “Son can you hold these for a moment?”

He crosses the busy street and enters the laundromat with a jangle of the store bell. Kankri junior watches him through the store window as he speaks quietly to the store owner. Mrs. Loretta’s shoulder’s shake, she puts her head in her hands and sobs. Kankri senior puts an arm around her and she clutches his coat sobbing. He rubs her back to soothe her.

 

Walls once again close around them, and Chen’s grocery store fades. They’re in the apartment again. The sky is dark outside and Meulin paces back in forth in the kitchen, talking onto a wall-mounted landline, the curly cord stretching as she talks. Kankri is in his pajamas on the couch, it's past his bedtime and he watches the door hungrily, like any second he’ll come back.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO WAIT 48 HOURS TO REPORT A MISSING PERSON!” Meulin’s voice flits in from the living room.

“HE COULD BE DEAD BY NOW WHY WOULD YOU-”

“NO HE DIDN’T JUST ‘LEAVE’ YOU DON’T KNOW HIM”

“THE CREW PAID YOU OFF DIDN’T THEY? I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER!”

The door handle jiggles and Kankri Junior jumps from the couch.

“DAD!”

A very tall man bursts through the door. He’s so large that he has to stoop to get through the doorway. The tall stoic man’s long black hair is tied into a loose ponytail, his eyes are hidden by rectangular shades.

Meulin drops the phone and comes bounding in “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

She pushes him, but with one huge hand he pushes her into the rocking chair in the living room. He pulls a sawed-off shotgun from his coat and levels it at Meulin.

“MOM!” Kankri jumps up from where he had been sitting on the couch and wraps his skinny little arms around her middle, shielding her pregnant belly from the gun. Meulin looks up at the tall man scowling, as little Kankri hides his face in her hair.

The man pauses, he lifts the gun slightly. He edges into the living room and picks up a couple of boxes of union pamphlets. The bulky man easily accommodates the hefty boxes on one massive shoulder, shotgun still trained on the pair.

Meulin holds out a hand “NO WAIT THAT'S HIS-”

A quick jerk of the gun silences her.

The man looks her over contemplative. He takes something out of a messenger bag and tosses it to her. Meulin catches it confused.

“....That was his…” The man informs her.

It’s a jacket to a workman’s uniform. The thick denim is torn and stained, but on the right-hand pocket is a little embroidered patch with a name.

Kankri.

Meulin grips the fabric tightly, tears streaming down her face. She turns to look up at the man, he looks like he wants to say something and-

Meulin jumps up from where she stands “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU ANIMAL! MURDERER! FILTH! COWARD! HOW COULD YOU? GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!!”

Meulin is so small in comparison to him. She stands with all of her fury, her fists at her sides, tears streaming down her face and her son around her stomach.

The man looks at her.

He lowers the gun.

And he leaves.

As soon as the door closes, Meulin curls in on the jacket and screams. She screams, loud, howling, filled with anguish. She screams and she screams until her voice is hoarse. She collapses to her knees and presses her face to the workman’s jacket sobbing.

All little Kankri can do is watch.

 

The apartment around them fizzles into a new memory. The apartment turns cold and dingy, losing all of its homeliness. Dirty dishes pile up in the sink, the floor turns tacky with grime. Meulin sits at the kitchen table, piles and piles of paper piles in bunches and heaps around her, all covered in her harsh scribbled writing. She sits, hair unkempt, dressed only in a bathrobe, her eyes wild.

“I have to remember I have to remember I have to write it all down I have to remember-”  
Little Kankri peeks out from a doorway. “mom?”

Meulin continues to mutter to herself and furiously write.

“mom please.”

There’s a knock at the door. Meulin still doesn’t respond. Kankri sighs and goes to open the door.

A woman wearing a harsh bun looks down at young Kankri over horned-rimmed glasses. She looks into the apartment wide-eyed.

She stumbles over her words for a moment, shocked at the state of the apartment before she speaks to Kankri.

“Young man where are your parents?”

Kankri points towards the kitchen.

The woman furrows her eyebrows and looks worried but she offers a warm smile to Kankri.

“thank you young man.”

She steps daintily into the apartment, stepping awkwardly around the trash, laundry and crushed pieces of scribbled-on paper as she goes. She leans into the kitchen.

“ma’m?” she asks.

Meulin doesn’t respond, continuing to scribble and mutter.

The woman takes a couple of worried notes on a pad of paper, looking nervously around the apartment and at Meulin before she continues.

“Ma’m i’m from child protective services, I was called after Kankri’s teachers expressed concern. You didn’t respond to any of our phone calls.”

Meulin continues to write and scribble.

The woman steps forward, “ma’m I-”

She steps on what looks like a moldy food carton, bugs scurry from the container and the woman gasps and retracts her heel.

“OH MY GOODNESS!” she stamps her heel “THIS IS NOT THE PROPER SETTING FOR A CHILD!”

Meulin mutters, and throws another scrap of scribbled paper to the floor. The woman scowls at her.

“I’m sorry but I will have to recommend immediate removal of the child!”

Now THAT gets Meulin’s attention. She turns to face the woman, her hair and eyes feral, her bathrobe falling off of her shoulders.

“THEY sent you DIDN’T THEY?”

The woman’s eyebrows furrow and she shakes her head “I-uh….what?”

Meulin scowls and her hands twitch by her sides. She stands and flips the table, papers fly everywhere and the thud reverberates through the apartment. Meulin points at the woman.

“DIDN’T THEY??”

“No! I-I-I” The woman stammers.

Meulin hisses through her teeth “TAKING MY HUSBAND WASN’T ENOUGH FOR THEM? NOW THEY WANT TO TAKE MY SON??”

The woman shakes her head “Ma’m I assure you I’m not with “them” I’m here because your son is in trouble! this isn’t a good place for him to live-”

“I’M HIS MOTHER!!!” Meulin shrieks “I KNOW WHATS BEST! NOW LEEEEAAAAVE!!!”

The woman squares her shoulders “I’ll get the police to remove him! He’s not safe here!”

Meulin grabs a dirty pot and throws it at the woman “LEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAVE!!!”

The woman runs to the door “THIS ISN’T OVER!”

 

The apartment wisps away, and suddenly they are standing outside of the apartment building. The woman has her hands protectively around Kankri’s shoulders as two police officers drag Meulin out in handcuffs.

“Ma’m please stop resisting!” Meulin screams and writhes in their grasps.

“LET ME GO YOU FUCKERS! YOU KILLED MY HUSBAND! I WON’T LET YOU KILL MY SON! I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL ALL OF YOU! LET ME GO! GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF MY SON! YOU’RE A MEMBER OF THE CREW AREN’T YOU?! LET GO LET GO!”

The woman tightens her grasp on Kankri’s shoulders “I assure you ma’m this is being done for the good of your son!”

Meulin screams and kicks. One of the police officers tries to restrain her and she bites him viciously on the arm. He screams in pain and Meulin breaks free she runs towards the other officer her eyes wild and her hair tangled she snarls and-

She howls wildly as the officer that was bitten uses his taser on her. She screams, and for a moment she fights it, continuing to stagger towards the officer, but then she collapses unconscious.

Kankri lurches forward to help her “mom!”

The woman stops him “It’s ok! its ok! let the police handle it! let the police handle it!” 

She grips his shoulder and all Kankri can do is watch as the police escort her to the insane asylum.

 

The teen-aged Kankri looks on as the scene unfolds, his brother standing next to him. He watches his mother’s limp unconscious form be loaded into the police car and then taken away.

“....Do you have any idea….” he starts “.....What its like to watch someone you love lose their mind?”

Karkat frowns and turns away “....I do actually….”

He takes Kankri’s hand in his own “My husband had severe alzheimer's before he died….”

Kankri smiles weakly at him and squeezes Karkat’s hand to comfort him.

 

The next scene the small Kankri huddles in a small spare cot. Dozens of cots surround him, filled with other sleeping children who haven’t found a foster home yet. The door opens and a tall slim figure in a suit enters the room, his face is hidden in shadow as light pours in from the doorway. Kankri clutches his sheets in fear. So they’ve finally come for him…

The man walks into the room, stepping closer and closer.  
He makes it to Kankri’s cot and his face is revealed.

Slick stands above Kankri’s cot, pale but determined, a small bundle in his arms. The woman from child protective services steps behind Slick.

“Kankri, this is your new foster father, Mr.Slick.”

“Hey kid….I was a friend of your fathers…”

Kankri scowls at the man and rolls his eyes, typical midnight crew lies. “Of course you were.”

The tiny bundle whimpers, and Slick bounces his arm up and down to placate the tiny baby. Kankri’s eyes widen. “Is that my?....”

“Yeah.” Slick answers “This is your brother.”

Kankri’s eyes are wide, and Slick reaches down and offers Kankri a hand.

“Come on kid. lets get you and your brother out of here.”

Kankri keeps his eyes on the baby, as he takes Slick’s hand and lets him lead him out of the facility.

 

The facility fades and Karkat and Kankri are left alone.

“you should have told me…” Karkat whispers “....When you were still alive”

Kankri shakes his head “You were too young….”

“Still….” Karkat sighs. “You should have told me…”

Kankri looks down at his shoes “I wanted to protect you but yeah….I should have told you…”

Karkat looks at him “...He really was dad’s friend though...Dad told me when I saw him..”

Kankri nods “He told me that too when I first saw him…”

“What did mom say?”

Kankri shakes his head “....I haven’t seen her yet…”  
Karkat’s eyebrows furrow “But dad said that when this was all done I would see her on the other side- she’s crossed over I-”

Realization dawns on him.

“....You haven’t crossed over yet….have you?….”

Kankri shakes his head.

“WHAT THE FUCK! YOU DIED WHEN I WAS EIGHT! IT’S BEEN ALMOST EIGHTY FUCKING YEARS!”

Kankri kicks out at a puff of nothingness “The universe thinks I should forgive HIM before I cross over.”

Karkat looks away “....Slick….”

Kankri nods “...him and the tall man…”

“....I’ll have to forgive Slick too at some point….”

“How?” Kankri demands. “How the fuck do you forgive something like that?”

“language young man.” Karkat teases with a small smile and Kankri smiles weakly back.

Karkat sighs and continues “...Honestly I don’t know either….”

He takes Kankri’s other hand and they stand facing each other “...But mom is waiting for you...and so is dad….”

He hugs his brother “...This will be hard for the both of us….but it will be worth it….It will be worth it…”

Karkat wipes a tear from Kankri’s cheek “And when we get there….you can introduce me to mom…”

Kankri laughs and Karkat holds him closer. Kankri squeezes him back.

“...It was good to see you little brother…”

Karkat smiles “....It was good to see you big brother….”

“Are you ready?” Kankri asks.  
Karkat nods “....I think I am…”

Kankri tucks his head into Karkat’s shoulder “....I don’t want you to leave…”

Karkat pulls back far enough to look into Kankri’s eyes. “Its ok….It won’t be for long…” He smiles and puts a hand in Kankri’s hair. “We’ll get this over with and get back to see mom and dad…”

Kankri laughs tiredly as tears roll down his face “...I’d like that…”

Karkat presses their foreheads together “...I forgive you…” He whispers, and his brother fades from his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit on a shingle this chapter is LONG AS BALLS! and it took so long! I hope you enjoy! please please comment I fucking love every single one of your comments and I reread them giggling at 2:00 in the morning. 
> 
> Tell me what you think! what will happen next? who is the tall man? What is the "it" from the first chapter? How the fuck did Slick manage to become a foster parent he has quite the fucking record? Do some things make more sense now? are there more questions???!!!
> 
> ALL THIS AND MORE WILL BE REVEALED!!!
> 
> After a couple of fluffy drabbles because holy fucking fuck on a fuck-train this has just been an entire shitload of angst.
> 
> Anywho! comment and as always keep an eye out for an update! I will make this a series and connect the fluff/porn drabbles to it.
> 
> toodles yo!


	11. Make you a survivor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why Slick needs to be forgiven. Short because its the hardest thing I've ever written and I almost didn't go there but I did because of the fucking plot and I'm so sorry.
> 
> Tw:abuse

Karkat Vantas peeks around the corner at his dad, smoking a cigarette in the living room, unshaven, a bottle of whiskey half-gone on the coffee table next to him.

Ever since the day Kankri was shot he hasn’t been the same. He doesn’t talk to Karkat, he doesn’t even look at him, too far off in his own thoughts. He used to only smoke behind the garage on really bad days, but every day it seems is a bad day now and the whole house smells like cigarettes, the little dish on the coffee table is nearly full of ash after countless cigarettes were smoked as he sat brooding in that chair.

Karkat swallows the lump in his throat and walks into the living room “....dad?...” he whispers.

Slick lazily nurses his glass of whiskey, cigarette perched haphazardly in his other hand.

“...Dad I….” he starts. He thinks about the men in suits, the same kind of suits his dad wears, the shopkeeper, the bloody dollar bills. Its too late for Karkat to pretend he doesn’t know what's going on, what his dad really does. He just wants Slick to say something about it, anything really. He can tell just by looking at his father that he shares his grief, but he wants something verbal, something spoken aloud that he can cling to, that he can pull apart strand by strand and wrap around his heart. He doesn’t care what it is.

He would even take a lie at this point.

Maybe he would even prefer a lie.

Something along the lines of “These things just happen”, “It’s ok”, “It will get better”.

Maybe even “It’s not your fault”.

He steps into the living room and looks at Slick. Slick is turned away.

“I...I want to know what happened…” He looks at how Slick’s fingers quiver around the cigarette. “I want to know why…”

Slick closes his eyes, pained. He takes a drag of the cigarette and flicks away the spent butt. He turns and looks at Karkat for the first time in three days.

“....What happened...was that I was fucking weak…” he looks down into the glass of whiskey “She was right….this whole time she was right….”

He takes another sip “I tried to raise you and your brother all fucking civilized and shit...Just like HE would have wanted….”

“Your brother would have grown up...hating me the whole time but I would have sent his ass to college and he would have been your father’s dream….your real father’s dream…”

He taps his glass pensively “So fucking soft-hearted….”

He grabs the bottle and swishes the amber liquid before pouring another shot “Your dad. Your brother…” He points and Karkat “YOU.”

He shakes his head. He stands from the chair only to stoop to his knees in front of Karkat. He puts both hands on either side of Karkat’s head. Karkat can smell the cigarettes and whiskey on his breath, he can see how red his father’s eyes are. He grips Karkat’s hair.

“...I can’t let you anymore….I can’t let you be soft anymore….look at where it got them…”

He puts both hands on Karkat’s shoulders “...This is how I learned to survive...I see that now...I’m a mother fucking SURVIVOR….And you will be too...You’ll hate me but YOU’LL BE A SURVIVOR!”

He grips Karkat’s shoulders tightly-

and pushes him to the ground.

Karkat looks up from his spot on the carpet “Dad!? What?” he tries to get up but slick pushes him down again with another rough shove to his shoulders. “DAD?”

Slick towers over him “Come on kid FIGHT BACK!”

Karkat edges away from him, Slick advances. “YOU’LL FUCKING NEED TO FIGHT KID SO DO IT!”

Karkat looks at him, wide-eyed in horror.

Slick stands above him “SO DO IT!!!” he roars.

Karkat squeezes his eyes shut and strikes blindly. He manages to slap hard against Slick’s unshaven face.

Slick nods passively, seemingly satisfied. “....Good kid….”

He sits back down into his chair and points at Karkat, still sitting on the floor, he takes a sip of whiskey. “That's lesson number one….”

Karkat runs upstairs to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please yell at me. I can't get away with this. Someone take me to angst jail.


	12. Confronting Slick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slick is finally here folks! this isn't the whole forgiveness, I'm splitting it up into parts because WOW Slick's pov is long. In this chapter we see early Slick and Kankri Senior, should be relatively cute/bittersweet so fucking enjoy it before all angst with a side of sadness toast is shoved down your gullets in the next update. 
> 
> Sorry for the long-ish wait for this update, I've been busy working at Jimmy Johns to make tuition money. (BTW if you're mean to people who make sandwiches you're not allowed to read this fic anymore.)

Karkat sat next to Gamzee in the void. Karkat bit his lip and played with his shoelaces. Gamzee somehow had managed to bend the fluffy white nothingness to his will and was currently making a snowman, or a void-man or whatever it was. He patted down the wisps of white smoke into the shape of a ball and put it on the void-man’s shoulders.

“...Gam?....” Karkat whispered.

“sup’ little bro?….” Gamzee distractedly answered back while trying to get a carrot he summoned to stick into the void-man’s face. The vegetable fell through the wisps and Gamzee stooped to retrieve it.

Karkat hugged his knees “....How did you do it Gamzee?....”

Gamzee picked up the carrot and tried again to stick it into the void-man’s head “Do what best friend?”

“....How did you forgive him?...” Karkat whispered “I know damn well enough of what you went through to know that he didn’t deserve to be forgiven….”

Gamzee paused. With a wave of a hand the void-man disintegrated. Gamzee shuffled on his feet and summoned another cigarette to nervously puff. He looked at his feet.

“....Like I said man, some of them fuckers just ain’t worth it…”

Karkat glared up at Gamzee “I know THAT but you never said HOW!”

Gamzee sat down next to Karkat. He nodded. “....You up and want to know how I did it for when you have to up and face your own motherfucking goat…”

Gamzee knocked shoulders with Karkat “....We up and came from some mighty similar shit you and me….Both our motherfuckers were up and tough with us….real up and tough with us….”

Gamzee shook his head “...My old man never did shit for me….all up and here one second and gone the next….It was motherfucking lonely…And even when he was there...It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows I can motherfucking tell you that….”

Gamzee took a puff of his cigarette. “...In a way it was motherfucking easy… part of my hurt was from all up and expecting something from him you know? Some motherfucking kindness? Some kind of fucking attention? Fatherly shit bro….but really….”

Gamzee chuckled low and humorless “...He was just some motherfucking stranger that fucked my mom a long fucking time ago….I had to realize he AIN’T SHIT TO ME.”

Gamzee nodded to the void. “And that’s how I mother-fucking up and did that shit man…”

Karkat’s eyebrows furrowed “Part of this whole shitty fucking problem is that….He is something to me…”

Gamzee looked down at Karkat as he shook his head and continued to talk “There was a time a long fucking time ago that he was a good dad...A REALLY GOOD DAD…”

Karkat wiped a tear from his face and Gamzee wrapped an arm around his shoulder “He was good back then to me you know?...” He smiled and sniffled through his tears “...I remember this one time...He took me to the zoo you know?...”

Gamzee wiped a tear off of Karkat’s face. Karkat smiled a bit through his tears. “I was a really fucking little shit back then...And I got really fucking scared at the alligator exhibit…there were these huge motherfucking goddamn alligators with huge colossal teeth... ”

Karkat grinned as tears rolled down his face “I was so fucking scared and you know what he said?..”

Gamzee smiled sadly “What did that mother fucker say best friend?”

Karkat laughed and wiped more tears from his face. “He said he would fucking beat up and fucking alligator that got near me.” Karkat laughed “He just held me and promised to punch every fucking alligator in the zoo until I stopped crying…”

Karkat just smiled for a moment, lost in nostalgia, tears still running down his face as he let Gamzee hold him.

Karkat wiped more tears from his face, his smile started to fade. “....I really needed him you know?....back when Kankri was shot...I needed him and….”

Karkat looked soberly into the nothingness “He was supposed to be the one to protect me...he promised he would protect me and….”

Karkat frowned at his tennis shoes “.....he fucking didn’t….”

“....He was supposed to be the person who protected me...not the person I had to fight...to protect myself FROM…..”

Gamzee kissed his temple and rocked them both back and forth. “...I’m so motherfucking sorry little best bro...This motherfucker is so up and sorry that you had to go through all that motherfucking shit...All that motherfucking hurt…”

Gamzee shook his head. He reached over and wrapped his long gangly arms around Karkat and crushed him to his chest in a fierce hug. He kissed the top of his head and it was so easy to forget that they were both dead when Karkat could remember the sound of Gamzee’s heartbeat, could feel his warmth from underneath his shirt.

“..I don’t know how you’ll do it best friend but I know you can do it...You up and got all of the time on the world…”

Karkat shook his head. He bunched his hands in Gamzee’s shirt “No.” He said resolute “...I don’t….I’ve already been away from him for too fucking long...I won’t let anyone...not even my dad keep me from him.”

Gamzee smiled into his hair “...You’ve always been so motherfucking brave best bro…”

Karkat chuckled tiredly. “...I’m really not….”

Gamzee smiled. “You really IS best friend...you really is and I motherfucking have faith in you…”

He started to fade though Karkat’s finger’s, his smile fading last and his words echoing through the nothingness “......motherfucking faith in you….”

 

The nothingness once again melts away. Walls form thick and heavy before closing around Karkat like a large box. The nothingness underneath Karkat pearls into beige carpeting. A dark shape forms at Karkat’s side and clarifies into a sofa. On Karkat’s other side a coffee table takes shape. In front of him a large armchair rises from a hole in the carpeting, slow and ominous it takes it’s place in front of Karkat. With the final piece of the scene a shockwave runs through the scenery. Karkat feels cold dread at the pit of his stomach as the walls take hue. The room is lit by a streetlamp outside.

A bottle of whiskey takes it’s place on the coffee table along with an overfilled ashtray and Karkat knows EXACTLY what this is. He remembers how small he was. How small he was and how big HE was in comparison. He shrinks and he shrinks until he’s the same tiny, scared little kid he was back then. He grips the sleeves of a suddenly too big sweater, he clenches his teeth and tries to will his body to get bigger because he had gotten bigger he had gotten stronger and he HAD LEARNED to FIGHT BACK.

Black smoke swirls in the seat of the armchair coalescing into a dark pillar before shoulders and hips form, his father’s arms stretching long and lanky, his legs stretching out onto the carpet, his head bowed over a glass in his hand.

Long stretches of wrinkled suit slide their way over his form, covering him in inky black. Slick’s face is unshaven, a red mark on his cheek from when he forced Karkat to hit him. Its the moment right after, the moment everything changed.

Slick looks down into his glass, he swirls the amber liquid “......so this is the moment you remember me best by?....”

He rubs the sore spot on his jaw absentmindedly “....I died when you were in your fifties kid…”

He looks over to where Karkat sits, young and shaking slightly on the carpet, a steely look in his eyes. “....Time heals all wounds and all of that shit you know?....”

He scratches his unshaved chin and takes a puff of a cigarette, the smoke curls out his nose like a dragon. “....but deep down I always knew you were coming here….It was only a matter of time….”

Karkat digs his fingers into the carpet. He remembers what it felt like, sitting on this same carpet. The panic, the fear, the rage that he had never felt before. He ran away that time.

He’s NOT running away now.

Slick flicks some ashes into the ashtray “I ruined a lot of lives you know….its like every other day some new fucker shows up like ‘ehhh ooooh you stabbed me in the face’ or like ‘naaaa you burned down my store’.....” He mimics their voices, high-pitched and whiney.

He takes another drag of the cigarette. “Whiney bitches...the lot of them…. but you…” he gestures to Karkat with a half-hearted flick of the wrist. “.....If there's anyone who deserved something from me, retribution, vengeance, a fucking explanation….” He sighs. “.....it's you….”

He rises from the armchair and stretches his back. He walks over to where little Karkat sits on the carpet and it takes everything he has not to run, his heart beats in his tiny chest. Slick leans over, he puts his hands on Karkat’s shoulders. Karkat can feel them like hot brands through his sweater and-

Slick moves his hands underneath Karkat’s armpits and picks him up. In Karkat’s tiny state Slick easily lifts him off of the floor and sets him to his feet.

Slick’s hands linger for maybe a second or two where they are around Karkat before he quickly takes his hands away and stuffs them into his pockets. He looks down at Karkat.

“look kid.” He looks off to the side “...I’m not sure you can forgive me...And maybe I shouldn’t be forgiven for what I did...Fuck maybe the best you can do is push me aside and fucking get on with your life- er...afterlife...Whatever….”

He looks Karkat straight in the eyes and Karkat forces himself to look back. “But there's some shit that you need to….that you DESERVE to know...It will make you hate me more...but you deserve to know kid...I owe you that much….”

He holds out his hand out to Karkat. Karkat eyes it wearily, but he hesitantly takes his father’s hand and the world starts to crumble around them.

 

The colors on the walls fade and the walls crumble. New walls form and rise above them, the walls turn creamy and bright, light by golden afternoon light, the furniture changes and rearrange themselves into a small cozy home. Karkat looks out the window and he can tell that they’re still in their neighborhood.

Two small forms appear at the kitchen table. Karkat recognizes his father, well, both of his fathers as young boys sitting at the table, their legs kicking underneath the table, eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Young Slick munches on his sandwich, a large yellowing bruise around his eye.

Karkat huffs “...whats this? trying to garner sympathy? Cheap trick.”

Slick half-smiles “...I know you’re trying to start an argument kid...But those are the first words you’ve spoken to me in almost forty years…”

Karkat presses his lips together and looks away. 

Slick looks back to the scene “And no. Its not a trick...Its just a piece of the puzzle…”

A tall, slender woman with short black hair and stunning green eyes glides gracefully into the room from the kitchen. Dark and statuesque she looks elegantly down a long proud nose. she stands behind the little Kankri and ruffles his hair, she kisses him on the temple and pours him a glass of juice. She stalks over to the other side of the table, Slick looks down. She narrows her eyes and fast as a whip she takes little Slick’s face in her hands and forces him to look at her straight on.

“Hey! watch it lady!” Little slick protests but she hushes him with one perfectly manicured finger, Green nail polish glints against his lips.

“What Is This” She demands, her voice low and even, scrutinizing the young boy.

Slick tries to squirm out of her grasp but her hold is firm “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS LADY!”

“Child, Do not deceive me, I will ask you again. What is this? Where did you get this? TELL Me if you need help.”

Slick’s face contorts as he struggles against her hold “LET ME GO! I FELL OK?”

Her eyes narrow. Slick continues to fight and struggle against her hold. She lets him go and he plops back down into the chair, breathing hard. She looks down at him as he rubs his cheeks.  
“...Forgive me, I did not wish for you to be distressed, I am merely concerned.”

Slick shrugs “Yeah well. You can get your concern out of my face. Nothing happened OK? I fell!”

She bows slightly, she doesn’t look like she believes him. “.....of course….” 

She glides out of the room as gracefully as she entered. The boys are left alone. Slick angrily munches on his sandwich. Little Kankri picks at his food.

“.....you shouldn’t lie Jack…” Kankri whispered.

Karkat looks at Slick. Jack?

Slick angrily chugs down his juice, red dribbling down his chin. “Well I DIDN’T lie so-”

Kankri tears the crust off of his sandwich. “....Yes you did…..”

Slick kicks him under the table “No! I didn’t!”

Kankri rips what's left of his sandwich apart, he pokes and squishes at the peanut butter oozing between the two halves. “I know he gets angry at you….”

Slick takes a bite of his sandwich and chews violently.

Kankri looks up “You can live here...It would be like having a slumber party every day...We could play games and when he would come look for you I could hide you in my closet...I would sit in front of the door so he couldn’t get in...I would tell him you got on a bus to mexico...I could tell him you went to the river to swim and never came back...he would think that you would have drowned and he would stop looking for you...we can dye your hair and mom can pretend she adopted another kid!”

Slick laughed into his cup of juice, he coughed and laughed. “Ok first of all, I’m the one who gets the bullies off of YOU during recess, you can’t take my dad….”

Slick...or Jack...smiles secretly into his cup of juice. “...you’ve got it all figured out huh?...”

Kankri smiles timidly “....I worry about it…” he whispers “Every time you’re not here I worry…”

Slick huffs “...I’m tougher than you...you shouldn’t have to worry about me..”

Kankri smiles and takes one of Jack’s band-aid fingered hands. Slick looks down at their joined hands and blushes slightly “....I worry about you all of the time…” He smiles sweetly up at jack and-

Slick embarrassed, flings Kankri’s hand back at him and screams “STOP BEING SUCH A FUCKING SISSY YOU LITTLE WUSS!!!”

Kankri’s mom rushes in from the next room, her hands on his hips “LANGUAGE YOUNG MAN!”

Little Kankri laughs so hard that juice squirts out his nose.

Little Slick smiles.

 

The scene fades and withers.

Karkat looks straight ahead “....So your real name is Jack?...how come you never told me?”

Slick, or Jack shrugs “...You get a lot of names in my line of work kid...there's a lot of things I never told you…”

From the nothingness concrete slabs form under their feet, breaking off into gum-stained sidewalk. Cars troll by in the dewey evening hours, the sun just beginning to set, sending rosey hues along dingy streets. A new green awning stretches over their heads. Its Chen’s supermarket. Kankri senior and Slick look to be around 13 or 14 as they walk down the street towards the supermarket. Kankri senior had an old hand-made sweater on and little slick bounces a baseball bat on his shoulders, occasionally taking a swing and making sound effects.

Slick takes a swing at a news-paper dispenser as they walk by “PSHOOOO! BLAMMO!” he laughs at the now dented dispenser.

Kankri huffs at him “Quit it! that's public property!”

Slick shrugs “so?” He continues to pretend swing at streetlamps and walls, making sound effects as he goes. “Boom! PSHAAA! FSHEEEW!” 

Kankri rolls his eyes and enters the store, Slick following him. Kankri gives a polite smile to (now middle-aged) old-man Chen at the register. Chen smiles back amicably at Kankri and scowls at Slick, Slick smiles cheekily at him.

Kankri reads over a list written in loopy green writing as he walks down the aisles. Slick follows Kankri as he picks up bread and cheese and milk, obviously bored he pretends to swing at a watermelon in the produce aisle.  
“STOP THAT.” Kankri hisses through his teeth, looking through rows of peanut butter on the shelves.

“But I’m booooooored….” Slick whines.

Kankri huffs “Be bored nonviolently then…”

“you’re no fun.” He bumps shoulders with Kankri and kankri bumps him back, giggling.

Kankri goes up to the cash register. Mr. Chen rings up the meager groceries and smiles amicably.

“Is this all?” He asks through a thick Chinese accent.

Kankri eyes a candybar near the register, Slick follows his eyes to the candy and back to Kankri. Kankri looks up.

“no that's everything.” He pays and they exit the store.

Kankri shifts underneath the weight of the grocery bag. Slick bumps his shoulder as they walk.

“pssst hey.” Slick whispers to his friend.

Kankri is distracted with the bag “hmm? what?”

Slick huffs and takes the bag from Kankri, putting it on the end of his baseball bat like a hobo’s satchel. He takes out a candy bar from a pocket in his hoodie.

Kankri’s eyes go wide “Jack!! You can’t do that! that's stealing!!”

The taller boy shrugs his shoulders “So? You wanted it. And I got it for you.”

Kankri looks around wide-eyed. “Oh my goodness you’re a criminal!”

Slick laughs at him “Oh my god you nerd.” He unwraps the chocolate and offers it to Kankri “Come on turd blossom take a bite.”

Kankri turns around and hold up his nose “No! I refuse! This chocolate is the product of an illegal act. Therefore THAT is illegal chocolate.”

“oh my god.” Slick starts to laugh so hard he nearly doubles over.

Kankri balls his hands into fists “STOP LAUGHING YOU’RE A CRIMINAL!”

Slick giggles some more and breaks off a piece of chocolate. He gently pushes Kankri against a brick wall.

“OPEN UP KANNY!” He pushes the chocolate against Kankri’s mouth “CHOO CHOO HERE COME THE ILLEGAL TRAIN!”

“JACK!!” Kankri flails against Slick’s hold.

Slick giggles louder “HERE COMES THE ILLEGAL PLANE VROOM!! VROOM!!”

He holds Kankri’s chin with his other hand and pushes the chocolate into his mouth, his thumb accidentally pushing in too. Kankri whimpers and Slick pauses, his thumb still in Kankri’s mouth. He blushes slightly and looks away, quickly sliding his thumb out of Kankri’s mouth with a wet pop.

“EWW!” Kankri sputters “THAT WAS YOUR THUMB!”

“Whatever…” Slick still looks away. He wipes his hand on Kankri’s sweater.

“HEY!” Kankri protests. He retaliates by wiping his chocolate-stained mouth on Slick’s hoodie.

Slick pushes him back and they giggles and push each other teasingly.

A black car rolls up to Chen’s supermarket. Both boys look out from where they had been shoving each other about a block away. The men enter the store and Chen quickly bows and offers a brown paper bag. One of the men snatches the bag from him. They file out of the store.

Kankri tugs at Slick’s sleeve “...Jack we should get out of here…”

Slick watches the men file into the car and drive away “...That's how its done Kanny...That's how you get what you want….”

Slick looks out where the car drove off “...See how old Chen treated them? Now that's respect…”

Kankri tugs harder “Come on those guys are dangerous!”

Slick smiles. “That's WHY they get respect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment bros! I love hearing from you and you can comment as a guest! You can yell at me, point out mistakes (that is actually super helpful) and you can comment on things in your comments (whoa! what!).
> 
> Tell me what you think is going to happen/what you think of the story now, because next update we're in to some deep ass shit.
> 
> Also always feel free to bug me on tumblr. I am Theladysyko there as well and I am always up to chat about stuff and junk.


	13. Slick pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I decided to chop Slick's part into thirds because I didn't realize HOW LONG this was when I was writing it. Also there is a whole lot of emotional stuff to process in this chapter and maybe connect back to previous chapters. Holy crud on a cracker there is so much to do and I'm sorry its taking so long.
> 
> btw guess who the secretary is. I couldn't make her talk in japanese because you needed to understand her but I hope she still reads well.

The scene fades away. Karkat claps sarcastically “yaaaaay you were a cute little kid with a crush on my dad once, Is this really supposed to make me forgive you?”

Slick shook his head “Nah, its just a piece of the puzzle and WAIT I DID NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON HIM!”

Karkat looks over at his father, disbelief written all over his face.

“I DIDN’T!” Slick assures him.

Karkat rolled his eyes “Oh please, I wrote romantic comedies for a living, I can read subtext.”

Slick chews the end of his cigarette annoyed “I didn’t have no fucking crush kid. I don’t get crushes.”

Karkat throws up his arms exasperated “Fine! Whatever! Stay in the closet you dead jerk! Its not like you’ve been dead for forty years and there's literally a void with no one around to judge you! but fine! whatever!”

Slick crosses his arms. “lets just move on, ok kid?”

 

Concrete slabs rolls blockly in front of them, unfurling until a long snake-like stretch or road appears before them. Road signs and lamp posts pop up from the void like daisies, the sky is painted with rich hues of blues and yellows as the last light of the sunset starts to fade. A tall dim grey factory looms before them, slicing into the serene sky with cannon-like smokestacks, obstinately pumping out streams of greasy black clouds. A whistle blows somewhere in the facility and shadow workers dressed in workman’s uniforms start to stream out of the factory. Kankri senior looks to be about 18 as he wipes his brow, obviously exhausted.

“HEY!” Someone calls out to Kankri senior and he whirls around.

A young Slick leans against a shiny black car. His suit is newly pressed and has an expensive sheen to it as he waves at Kankri.

Kankri trots over to him and smiles “Wow Jack, are you going to a funeral or something? Who’s car is that?”

Slick smiles “No its my car nerd, and for funerals? I suppose the night is still young, there's always time to hit a couple of funerals on the way.”

Kankri laughs and Slick smiles back at him “Come on loser.” he prods Kankri “get in the car I have some stuff I want to tell you.”

Kankri gets into the car, trying as best as he can not to dirty the leather, Slick gets into the driver’s side and speeds away. Kankri seems so out of place, dirty and uncomfortable on the leather seats, while slick, clean-shaven and dressed to kill (in more ways than one), leans back into the expensive leather like this car was made for him.

Slick lights a cigarette and taps some loose ash on the window “So why aren’t you at your nerd college?”

Kankri shrugs “I need more money for tuition...I got a job here at the factory to try and build up some cash for maybe a year or two before going back. I asked around for you Jack, but nobody seemed to know where you were.”

Slick smiles “I keep to myself these days, besides I go by the name Slick now…”

Kankri’s face scrunches up “Slick? What kind of name is that? It sounds fucking cheesy”

“Hey.” Slick protests “shut up its an awesome name.”

“.....I like Jack better…”

Slick rolls his eyes “Yeah well...you need a couple of names when you’re in my business…”

“...Your business?...” Kankri looks around at the expensive interior of the car worriedly “....Jack what did you get into?...”

Slick shakes his head “I told you, call me SLICK now besides…” He turns towards Kankri and smiles “How would you like to make all of your tuition money within a month?”

Kankri stares wide-eyed at Slick “.....What did you do…..what the hell are you doing?...Jack please tell me you didn’t…”

Slick flicks his cigarette out the window and huffs. “SLICK KANNY. THE NAME IS SLICK. And what I did was take advantage of an opportunity…”

Kankri pulls his hands through his hair flecked with motor grease “No. no. no. you didn’t! tell me you didn’t!”

Slick hits his steering wheel “For the love of God I’m trying to help you out here!” He pulls the car over and forces Kankri’s chin up to look him in the eyes “Come with me Kan!”

Kankri shakes his head “ARE YOU NUTS? THIS IS THE CREW WE’RE TALKING ABOUT!!!”

Slick nods “Yeah Kankri, and with them we can get out of this shithole of a neighborhood.”

Kankri shakes his head “No Slick. Not like this. These are our neighbors...our friends…” Kankri unbuckles his seatbelt despite slick’s protests and steps out of the car, his arms crossed.

Slick rolled his eyes “..So fucking soft…” he murmurs and he puts the car back into drive and speeds away leaving Kankri on the side of the road.

 

The road and the car fade away. The air smells like cheap cologne and cigarette smoke. a long dark room forms, the walls draped with gaudy expensive wallpaper and thick heavy velvet curtains that are sure to both block out any light and to muffle any screams. Men in suits file into the room and murmur quietly amongst themselves. One woman in an inky black-green dress with a dangerously high slit on the leg sits on the corner of a long mahogany table at the end of the room, she hold a cigarette holder in long talon-like nails. Dark, old figures sit, their faces shadowed in the wan light of the room at the mahogany table. Thick gold rings with gaudy impractical jewels sit on their fat fingers, cigars in their mouths and serious expressions on their faces.

The middle figure raises a hand and the murmuring stops.

“boys…” his voice is thick and raspy from years of fat cuban cigars, an unrecognizable accent twisting around his words “You all know that we have lets say...a controlling interest in the auto factory…”

He takes a puff of the cigar and fat plumes of smoke rise from his nose “Now it seems that the boys there are unhappy…”

A few of the suited men chuckle to themselves.

The man flicks ashes from the cigar into a nearby turtle shell ashtray “For obvious reasons a union would hinder our operations there, so boys it's time for a little union busting. The leader is some schmuck named Vantas…”

Slick tenses where he had been leading on the far side of the room.

The middle figure laughs and coughs into a hanky “....do whatcha gotta do to make this go away…”

 

The Crew’s den warps and changes into a dark church basement. Rows and rows of shadowy men in workman’s uniforms fan themselves with union pamphlets in the stifling heat. Kankri stands above them on a chair. Slick leans against the doorway outside leading to the basement, his head resting on the cool cracked concrete.

“THEY CAN’T TREAT US THIS WAY! TOGETHER WE CAN DEMAND BETTER CONDITIONS! DENTAL CARE! BASIC HUMAN NEEDS!”

Slick rubs his eyes. Kanny you idiot.

The shadow workers cheer and clap. They hoop and holler and throw their pamphlets into the air with joy.

“WE CAN CHANGE THINGS FOR THE BETTER!!!”

After the meeting the basement is left empty, pamphlets strewn about on folding chairs.Slick slides in from the doorway, his face drawn.

“Slick!” Kankri senior cheerily greets his friend but his smile falls when he sees the look on Slick’s face. In one smooth move Slick pins Kankri senior to the wall.

“YOU FUCKING IDIOT” Slick hisses “WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU GOTTEN INTO?”

Kankri pushes Slick off of him “WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN INTO? REALLY? THIS COMING FROM MR.MAFIOSO? I AM HELPING PEOPLE! I AM CHANGING THINGS FOR THE BETTER!”

Slick snarls at Kankri “DO YOU FUCKING HAVE A DEATH WISH? YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHO OWNS THAT FACTORY! AND YOU KNOW DAMN WELL THAT THE CREW DOES UNION BUSTING FOR THEM!!”

“FUCK YOU SLICK!” Kankri senior seethes “THIS IS ABOUT JUSTICE! THE GREATER GOOD! THE CHANCE TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE!”

Kankri called him Slick, his mob name instead of Jack…..

Slick looks like he’s about to explode with fury “REALLY? REALLY? THATS GREAT AND ALL, BUT IN THE REAL WORLD YOU’RE GONNA GET YOUR ASS SHOT YOU FUCKING MORON!!”

Slick picks up a handful of union pamphlets from a nearby chair and throws them at Kankri “TAKE YOUR FUCKING SHIT AND LEAVE!!”

Kankri throws the pamphlets down to the ground “THATS IT? JUST PICK UP EVERYTHING AND RUN AWAY? THATS HOW YOU’RE SOLVING THIS??”

Slick grabs Kankri’s shoulders and shakes them “BULLET. IN. YOUR. DUMB. ASS. I’M WARNING YOU!! JUST LEAVE WHILE YOU STILL CAN!!!”

“.....please….” he adds softly. He looks into Kankri’s eyes, imploring him “....please for once in your life do the smart thing….”

Kankri senior’s eyebrows furrow, he presses his lips together and he looks right back into Slick’s eyes. He shakes his head.

“......I can’t Slick…...these people need me…..”

Slick, he keeps calling him Slick. He snarls and turns away from Kankri.

“Slick...I….” Kankri begins.

“YOU’RE SUCH A FUCKING IDIOT!!!” Slick kicks down a group of folding chairs and he storms out “DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU!!!”

Slick runs out of the room, in the concrete hallway of the church stained-glass windows cast fey blue shadows across his path. He pauses and puts an arm to the wall, he rakes his other hand through his hair and pants wide-eyed with panic. Mary mother of god herself seems to weep at him from the patterns in the stained glass. He looks at her. His fists are tight in the sleeves of his suit. He wants to go back. He wants to yank Kankri out of there, he wants to pick him up and lock him away where he’ll be safe forever from the crew. 

He doesn’t.

He squares his shoulders and walks out into the inky black night.

 

Slick is pushed by two men into a mahogany office.

“WATCH THE SUIT FUCKERS” he yells back at them as they give a final push and close the door behind him.

Behind an ancient and impossibly expensive desk, the man from the crew meeting sits undisturbed. Red velvet curtains behind him and a bottle of scotch on his desk. He looks up at Slick and smiles, one gold tooth glinting in the light.

“Now it seems….” his voice is low and even, dangerous like the buzz of a rattlesnake. “That you were trying to skip town Mr.Slick…..”

Slick laughs humorlessly and glares at him “....of course…” He shakes his head, he should have seen this coming. “....The car…”

The man smiles wider. “That and other means of tracking you of course…..”

“What do you want.” Slick demands.

The man shakes his head “This isn’t about what I want...this is about what YOU want.”

He looks Slick over “...The union leader...sources tell me you two were...close…”

Slick doesn’t answer, he continues to glare at him.

The man smiles secretly to himself “...Now now Mr.Slick...There's no need to get upset…”Slick growls to himself and the man seems delighted. Slick turns away disgusted.

“...Now I’m sure you are aware there were...children…”

Now THAT gets Slick’s attention. A knife is pulled from a place the guards obviously didn’t think to check and is pressed against the man’s throat. The man chuckles and Slick presses harder.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

The man smiles “This is exactly why we can’t let you go...you’re too good at your job..” he muses.

Slick scowls “THE KIDS. I’M NOT GOING TO ASK AGAIN.”

“Theres no need for violence.” The man chastises “They are safe...for now…”

“The mother?”

The man giggles, little puffs of breath escape from his fat lips “quite insane I’ve been assured.”

Slick lets up on the knife, the man continues. “The boy is being held at one of the fostering facilities, the child is yet to be born in the insane asylum. When he is born, they will be separated and thrust into the foster care system. Now tell me. Do you want that? For them to be in the system?”

“.....no….” Slick answers quietly.

The man smiles “Good. It seems we can come to a solution then. You’re good at your job, really good, so good that if you ever left I would have to put a bullet in your back to ensure the competition never got you. I don’t want it to come to that you know, it would be such a waste.”

Slick narrows his eyes “What do you propose?...”

The man nods his head “We have connections, people on the inside. We get you all set up with your new name and new identity, the name you’ve chosen here. You’ll be the kind of man any agency schmuck would be proud to dump some brats with.”

The smile falls from the man’s face “And if you ever pull another stunt like you just did, leaving the crew? We can take them back just as easily as we gave them to you, do you understand?”

Slick nods, defeatedly he takes back his knife.

The man claps his shoulders and laughs joyfully, Slick numbly allows the man to shake him back and forth “Wonderful!” the man exclaims. 

The man sits back into his seat “I foresee a great future for you in this business, mark my words…”

Slick only stares numbly. The man lights a cigar.

“Oh by the way…” the man says through a puff of cigar smoke “That baby will be born any day now…” He smiles “You should prepare…”

 

The scene fades, the smell of cigar smoke and the dim light of the crew boss’s study turn into the sharp tang of disinfectant and the harsh pallid light of fluorescent lights being reflected off of bleach white tiles. Slick sits on mustard-yellow couch in a harsh white waiting room, 20 year old magazines sit on a stainless steel table, a fake plant in the corner. A clock ticks loudly as a nurse sits beyond the steel gate, reading a magazine and chewing bubblegum. Every once in a while she pops a bubble with thick red-painted lips and the sound reverberates through the room. Slick can hear the distant sounds of screaming in the asylum.

A short man enters the waiting room from the facility and Slick stands up.

The man is short and fat and has a round bald head. He stands proudly, his hands behind his back in a white doctor’s coat. 

“Hello.” He greets “I am the head of this facility. Doctor Scratch. Please follow me.”

He follows the short man through the door and into the facility. The nurse smirks at him.

“Be careful in theh sweethart…” she smiles and pops another bubble.

Patients meander like ghosts in white hospital clothing, some of them curled up in corners muttering to themselves, but mostly just walking aimlessly with blank expressions on their faces. The doctor doesn’t seem to pay them much mind as he leads Slick through the facility.

“Now in this particular case.” The doctor starts “We had to limit her usage of drugs because of her pregnancy of course.”

The doctor steps over a man writhing in hospital clothes on the floor and keeps talking, Slick at least has the decency to step around. “she suffers from paranoid delusions of persecution..”

“Is that so?” Slick looks back distractedly at the man on the floor.

“Yes.” The short man nods “She often talks about a ‘crew’ who murdered her husband and are taking her children away.”

Slick cringes “..yeah...delusional…”

The doctor chuckles to himself “Ah the human mind and it’s impossible ability to create the absurd…”

The doctor looks back at Slick “Tragic as her situation is, I’m glad that they were able to find a family member to take in the child, the agency told me you were um..a brother is it? To the deceased father?”

Slick nods.

The doctor smiles “Well I’m glad you’re here, she went into labor four hours ago.”

He opens a door and immediately all Slick can hear is screaming. Nurses flitter about with trays of medical things and towels and other assorted things in a rushed sort of frenzy. Meulin howls and screams, the muscles in her arms taut as she strains against padded cuffs. A nurse pushes tangled hair from Meulin’s forehead and whispers encouragingly to her.

“Shhh. shhh thats it Meu, push, you can do it, push….”

Doctor Scratch pats her belly and Meulin hisses at him. He chuckles. “Now now my dear, with that pesky baby out we’ll finally be able to get you some proper treatment!”

Meulin tries to bite him and he quickly pulls his hand away.

Nurses continue to flutter back and forth.

“She’s fully dilated now!”

“Get me some more pain medication!”

“I need a towel over here!”

“Push Meulin! Come on sweetie!”

“The baby is coming now! I can see the head!”

With a scream and a final shove from Meulin the nurses seem to rejoice. One nurse holds a little bloody pink lump, she wipes it’s face and it begins to cry. She goes quickly to clean the baby off. Another nurse smooths down Meulin’s hair as other nurses continue to fix this or that up, cleaning up Meulin and the surrounding bloodied space.

“You did it Meu, everything is ok, you did it” one nurse consoles her.

“...my...my baby…” Meulin whispers, tear tracks across her cheeks as the nurse combs back her hair.

“He’s getting washed up Meu..”

The other nurse comes back with what is now recognizably a baby, wrapped in a tiny little blanket. The nurses set the little bundle in the crook of Meulin’s arm. She strains against the padded cuffs but manages to lean down far enough to kiss the little baby’s head. She smiles down at the baby.

“Hi…” she whispers, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Hi little Karkat….”

Scratch, business-like and proper, quickly picks up the infant.

Meulin rears up, stretching against the cuffs “NO WAIT YOU CAN’T DO THIS THAT’S MY BABY!!”

The nurse that soothed her before tries to coax her back into bed “Its ok Meu! Your baby is going to stay with your husband’s brother while you get better ok?”

Meulin looks panicked “MY HUSBAND NEVER HAD A BROTHER”

Scratch sets the baby down in Slick’s arms to Meulin’s horror. She writhes against the cuffs and shakes the bed.

“NO YOU CAN’T GIVE MY BABY TO HIM HE’S A MEMBER OF THE CREW! PLEASE YOU CAN’T DO THIS! NO MY BABY! STOP HIM! PLEASE!”

She screams and strains against the bonds as Slick and Scratch walk down the hall, her voice following them through the facility.

“NO HE’S A MEMBER OF THE CREW! HE’LL KILL MY BABY! DON’T LET HIM TAKE MY BABY! PLEASE!!”

Slick squares his shoulders and continues to follow the doctor down the hall and out of the asylum.

 

Karkat shudders. “...I feel so bad for her...What the fuck Slick…”

Slick sighs. “I get it kid...shit ain’t fair…”

Karkat rolls his eyes “Fucking understatement of the century.”

 

The bleach white tiles of the insane asylum fade and turn to homey red brick. Posters litter the wall, advising children to wash their hands, to keep themselves clean, to not fight. Toys litter the hallways. Slick bounces the tiny bundle up and down gently in his arms.

The social worker that took Kankri away taps into the room on sensible high heels.

“...Is that the baby?” She asks gently. “Little Kankri’s brother?”

Slick nods. She smiles shyly.

“May I take a look at him?”

Slick loosens his hold and allows her to lean over his arms.

“He’s just darling.” She whispers “You know the mother was tasered when we took Kankri out...I had been so worried that the baby would be damaged but look…”

She runs a finger down baby Karkat’s tiny nose and he whimpers and turns his head in his sleep. “He seems to be perfectly healthy...and darn cute too…” 

She looks up at Slick “I’ll take you to the brother” 

Slick follows her as her shoes tip and tap down the hall “We’ll be checking in from time to time and I implore you to take advantage of our counseling services, little Kankri has been through quite the amount of traumatic experiences.”

Slick rubs the back of his neck. He wasn’t prepared for this shit. “Thanks mrs. um….”

The woman smiles and pushed up her glasses “Ms.Paint.”

Slick grimaces. “Thats a stupid name…”

She laughs, her little pink painted lips quirking up into a smile “So is ‘Slick’..”

Slick shrugs “alright touche....”

She opens up a door decorated with a poster of a cat hanging in a tree. Inside the room, bunkbed after bunkbed line the walls and set themselves up in rows inside the room. Hundreds of children lay sleeping. He steps into the room and scans the sleeping faces. He’s not really sure what he’s looking for but he’ll know it when he sees i-

Holy shit he looks just like his dad. Tiny and determined. He’s looking at Slick like an executioner.

Slick stands above Kankri’s cot, pale but determined, a Karkat bundled up in his arms. Ms.Paint steps behind Slick.

“Kankri, this is your new foster father, Mr.Slick.”

“Hey kid….I was a friend of your fathers…” he assured the kid.

Kankri scowls at the man and rolls his eyes. “Of course you were.”

Wow. What a little shit.

The tiny bundle whimpers and Slick bounces his arm up and down to placate the tiny baby. Kankri’s eyes widen.

“Is that my?....”

“Yeah.” Slick answers “This is your brother.”

Kankri’s eyes are wide and Slick reaches down and offers Kankri a hand.

“Come on kid. lets get you and your brother out of here.”

Kankri keeps his eyes on the baby as he takes Slick’s hand and lets him lead him out of the facility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment on me like one of your french girls.


	14. pieces of what COULD have been a good man.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final slick Chapter. We get to see what happened to Meulin, the tall man and Kankri junior's shooter.
> 
> To set some matters straight head-canon wise that wouldn't work in the story but that I want you to know about.
> 
> I could never decide on light black, latino, or ginger when it came down to humanstuck Karkat. I only want freckles for Karkat that's all I want in this world. The Dolorosa, Kankri and Karkat's grandma was both Kankris spirit guide when they died. Meulin ended up being released after Karkat had moved out of town and couldn't find him. She had another baby, but put her up for adoption because her life was still such a fucking mess, that baby was Nepeta. Meulin took a really fucking long time to forgive darkleer but she did it, but when he died his final person to forgive was himself and he still hasn't been able to do it. Slick's spirit guide was deuce and the little dickhead annoyed the everloving shit out of him for nearly twenty years. Slick served as droog's spirit guide to the dismay of both of them.
> 
> btw there is a lot of stuff in this chapter that would make other things in previous chapters make more sense, so I suggest a quick re-read :3 especially the last couple of chapters.

“STOP!” Karkat demands, his hands in his hair and tears streaming down his face “JUST FUCKING STOP NOW!”

“Slick puts both hands on Karkat’s shoulders “Kid?”

Karkat knocks off his hands “YOU!” he shakes his head “YOU FUCKING KIDNAPPED ME!”

Slick shook his head grimly “What? Would you have rather have been left to the foster system? taken from your brother away from-”

Karkat raises his arms “AWAY FROM WHAT?? FAMILY? FOR FUCKS SAKE SHE WAS MY MOTHER! I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW SHE EXISTED UNTIL KANKRI TOLD ME ABOUT HER!”

Slick looks away “....She wasn’t right anymore kid...she wasn’t right in the head anymore kid…”

Karkat fold his arms and gives Slick an acid look “She wasn’t wrong though was she? About the crew? You know that whole thing about the crew killing her husband and taking away her children?”

“....There were a lot of things that Meulin was right about…”

Karkat shook his head. “And you just LEFT her there…”

Slick snarled “AND WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE ME DO? HUH? TELL EVERYONE SHE WAS RIGHT??”

“YES!!!” Karkat screamed.

Slick nodded sarcastically “Oh yeah sure that would go over well ‘yeah hey that crazy lady is right about a few things, please throw me in jail to be murdered as a snitch, and throw these two kids back into the foster system please and thank you! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED?”

Karkat snarled “WELL MAYBE I WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER OFF WITH A STRANGER!! DID YOU THINK OF THAT? HUH?!!”

Slick flinches back.

“....maybe I would have been better off with someone else...if I had never even fucking met you…” Karkat whispers.

Slick looks sallow and pale as he looks at Karkat. Karkat stands, small in his childhood body, tiny face grim and full of grief.

“....maybe….” Slick whispers back “....You would’ve been better off without me….”

He look away from Karkat’s small and tear-tracked face “....but I can’t change that now...and we still have a lot to see kid…”

Karkat snarls and shakes his head “...no...NO!!” he hisses “IT’S ALREADY GOING TO BE HARD ENOUGH TO FORGIVE YOU!! STOP MAKING IT MORE DIFFICULT!! DO YOU WANT ME TO BE STUCK HERE FOREVER!!”

“IT’S NOT LIKE I MAKE THE RULES KID!!!” Slick screams into the void “IF I WANTED YOU TO FORGIVE ME STRAIGHT UP I WOULD JUST MAKE UP A BUNCH OF SHIT ABOUT SAVING PUPPIES FROM A BURNING ORPHANAGE OR SOME SHIT, BUT IT DOESN’T COUNT IF THE FORGIVENESS IS DONE BECAUSE OF A DAMN DIRTY LIE!”

He points a finger at Karkat “AND DON’T FORGET I WAS THERE WHEN “IT” HAPPENED! YOU HAVE MUCH BIGGER STUFF TO FORGIVE THAN ME!!”

Karkat whirls towards him, his face screwed into the perfect portrait of rage “HOW DARE YOU!-”

Slick slams a hand to his own chest “I WAS THERE BECAUSE FOR ONCE YOU NEEDED WHAT I COULD DO!”

“FUCK YOU! THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT!!”

Karkat seethes with rage and Slick tries to cool his temper. He huffs and runs a hand through his hair. He rubs his eyes and grits his teeth before the anger seems to seep out of him, his shoulders slowly relaxing. He looks at Karkat.

“....a lot of unfair shit has happened to you Karkat…”

Karkat turns away.

“...Some of it isn’t even my fault…” he continues “...but for the shit that is…” he sighs “...we have a lot to go through…”

Karkat turns to looks at him. Slick looks back imploringly. He considers for a moment the man in front of him, he wouldn’t trust him as far as he could throw him, but there was a time buried in his childhood where he meant everything… When Karkat left home for the last time at 18 he never planned on speaking to him ever again, but when “IT” had happened it made Karkat desperate enough to reach out. He had found Slick again with a lovely new wife and yeah, he had helped...but that doesn’t...it could never excuse what he did…

Slick nods towards Karkat “...there's a fuck of a lot to do kid...and although we do technically have eternity…” he shrugs “I would much rather have this done within the century if possible…”

Karkat scoffs, he shrugs his shoulders, but ultimately he sighs and lets Slick pull him into a new memory.

The white walls of the insane asylum return. Bleach-white tiles line the walls and reflect the sickly fluorescent lighting. Its a smaller room this time, more comfortable than the medical room Meulin gave birth in, more like the waiting room Slick occupied before. Sickly sea-foam and chartreuse furniture clash in an eye-straining abortion of anything that ever resembled good home furnishing taste. A fake potted plant sits dumbly in the corner. The walls are lined with disgustingly cheerful posters, “Just hang in there” they urge, “keep smiling” another one implores. One particularly large poster has a kitten on it with the saying “If you hear voices in your head please tell a staff member!”. The room smells like vomit and bleach after a janitor did the absolute best that they could with the aforementioned vomit.

A Chartreuse and a sea-foam coach stare desolately at each other from across a sturdy steel coffee table. A clock ticks noisily through the room. Slick has always hated clocks…

The figure of a wild-haired woman forms on the sea-foam couch, her wrist shackled firmly to one arm-rest. She sits in a simple white tunic and pants, presumably the way all patients are to dress. Her dark hair is a large blot on the sea-foam couch, it hangs past her knees in long wild tendrils that snake across the cushions of the couch. She chews on her long talon-like fingernails, making the cuff around her wrist and connecting her to the couch jangle with the movement. 

Slick, in contrast sits on the chartreuse couch, his black suit is a dark stain on the light fabric. He shifts his legs and the plastic-covered cushions squeak underneath him.

Meulin’s eyes dart over him, she studies him and the room around then as if to ascertain, exactly how best to stab him given their current situation. She continues to chew on her nails, she rips off one very large chunk of keratin in a quick jerk of her teeth, she doesn’t seem to notice the pain, she only spits out the bloodied chunk onto the coffee table and continues onto the next finger.

Slick breathes deeply and reaches into his pocket. Meulin tenses and hisses, but he only pulls out a small scrap of paper. He puts the paper face-down onto the coffee table and slides it to Meulin.

Meulin’s eyes dart to the piece of paper and back up to Slick. She snatches up the paper quickly as if her hand lingered a second longer over the coffee table he would have done something horrible to it.

A pudgy baby smiles gleefully up from the photograph. The little boy sits at a table, a birthday cake in front of him with a big number ‘2’ on it. The boy has frosting all over his face and his hands. Kankri stands off to the side, tending to Karkat and looking distrustfully at the camera.

“...he just turned two…” Slick informs her casually.

“..hmph…” she mutters non-committally. She traces Karkat in the picture lovingly with one finger, blood from her torn nail striping the paper.

“From now on, you’ll be receiving updates…” Slick informs her casually “bi-yearly you will receive a new photograph and news regarding his development..” Business-like, very proper. He must have practiced those particular lines.

Meulin cocks her head at him “Why are you doing this?”

Slick straightens his suit and breathes deeply before he answers “doing what?”

Meulin scowls. She slams the picture back down to the coffee table in a thud that reverberates through the still room. She pokes angrily at the photo with a still bloody finger.

“THIIIIIIISSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!” she screams.

Slick scowls at her “As if I would have just LEFT them!”

Meulin jerks out of her seat and leans towards Slick, her cuffed wrist preventing her from pouncing on him. “THEY DON’T NEED YOU!!!” She seethes “I’M THEIR MOTHER!!!”

Slick jumps out of his seat and gets in her face “YOU’RE A CRAZY BITCH!!!”

Meulin slowly sits back down, eyes aflame under the thick curtain of her hair “So what?” She mocks “Big bad mafioso guy is gonna put on an apron and play mommy?” She laughs. 

She points at Slick “You….” Her bloodied finger stabs the air and she shifts back and forth in her seat “I know EXACTLY what you are…” She hisses.

“You’re nothing but a fucking coward...you’re the coward that killed my husband….”

Slick shakes his head “Meulin I didn’t-”

“SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!” She screams “YOU DIDN’T PULL THE TRIGGER BUT YOU DAMN WELL KNEW WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN AND YOU TURNED YOUR FUCKING BACK ON HIM! AS FAR AS I’M CONCERNED YOU’RE JUST AS GUILTY AS THE OTHER FUCKTARD THAT KEEPS COMING IN HERE!!!”  
Slick’s eyebrows furrow “Wait, who’s been coming in here?”

“Tall guy. Sunglasses indoors. long straight hair. Buff as fuck.” Meulin shrugged “Keeps coming around with roses and offering his ‘sincerest condolences’...” Meulin scoffs “another fucking coward that can’t deal with what they’ve done...always around here wanting forgiveness or some shit… all of you are cowards....all of you…”

“but you…” Meulin points to Slick “you’re the worst of them all...maybe you’ve honestly deluded yourself into thinking that you can be better...that you can raise MY babies…”

Meulin shakes her head and leans back into the couch “...You’ll DESTROY them the same way you killed my husband...by being a fucking coward…By not being strong enough….”

“My baby was dead the moment the doctor put him in your sleazy arms...mark my fucking words…”

She leans against the couch. Her fingers bloody on the plastic cushions and her hair snaking like dark omens across her legs. She leans her head back and closes her eyes resolutely.

“....its just a matter of time….”

 

The stale white facility fades and the stark white tiles are replaced with deep mahogany. The smell of bleach is replaced with the deep smell of cigars and impossibly expensive whiskey. A tall muscled man walks briskly down the hallway, his long dark hair tied neatly into a ponytail. Slick appears from a nearby doorway and starts to walk beside him. 

They walk side by side for a moment. “So…” Slick starts conversationally “I hear you like tormenting crazy people…”

“I- What?-” The man begins to protest, but in a move too swift to block, he jams a syringe into the man’s stomach. The man holds his sides and looks at Slick shocked, he tries to stagger forward but only makes it a couple of steps, before he crumples to the ground like a rag doll.

Slick puts his hands to his knees “Well fellas…” Hearts Boxcars, Diamonds Droog and Clubs Deuce appear at his sides “It seems that our good friend is too drunk to drive…”

“...a pity…” Diamonds Droog says, his voice even and slow “We should help him home…”

Hearts Boxcars slings the bulky man over his own bulky shoulder. Clubs Deuce pats the unconscious man on the face and giggles “nighty night.” he whispers.

Slick’s personal crew carry off the man from the mansion and to a waiting car.  
The scene shivers away and is replaced by a very familiar church basement. It seems that the church has been abandoned for a couple of years now, cold with paint peeling from the walls. The very same basement that Kankri Senior used to have union meetings in. Diamonds droog carefully lays out plastic over the general area. The tall man lays strapped to what seems to be a pew ripped from the abandoned area of worship above. 

Slick stands impassively above the man. He rummages around in one of the boxes left behind, and pulls out an abandoned bottle of communion wine. He opens the cap and pours the foul-smelling liquid over the man’s face, he awakens with a sputter.

“Rise and fucking shine sleeping beauty” Slick greets the man and takes a cigarette from the box, quickly lighting it and taking a puff.

The man pulls against his binds but they hold tight.

“So…” Smoke curls out of Slick’s mouth. He jams the lit cigarette into the exposed flesh of the man’s arm. The smell of burning flesh fills the air, the man’s muscles strain against his holds and he gurgles in pain, his face going red.

“Ya like to kill people AND torment their widows?” Slick continues “You’re just a slick little puppy ain’t cha kid?”

The tall man calms himself, taking deep breathes before he speaks “I assure you...my attempts to comfort her are entirely genuine...I regret her suffering”

Slick casually sits on the man’s chest and the man struggles to breathe under his weight. He lights another cigarette and the other man’s eyes follow the motion of the flame. Slick takes a puff.

The man looks around the room and then back to Slick. “Kill me if you must. But I assure you I did not meant to torment her…”

Slick nods his head. He lowers his cigarette dangerously low to the man’s face, still covered in very flammable sacrificial wine…

“No see…” he gestures with his cigarette “I’ve learned that it's not ALWAYS about brute force...or setting someone on fire…”

Deuce pauses where he had been putting marshmallows on a stick “....so we’re NOT setting him on fire?”

Slick ignores him and continues “Mostly its about getting someone to do EXACTLY what you want…”

Slick nods his head and takes another puff of the cigarette “And see kid, I want you fucking gone...I COULD do that by setting you on fire and then putting your dismembered body out to sea…”

Hearts boxcars pauses where he had been sorting a large collection of knives in a duffle bag “So do we need da dismemberin’ kit o what?...”

“But really…” Slick continues “It would be so much work so haul your muscley ass.. so I thought...why don’t you just up and fucking leave….gone...out of my city...out of my fucking state..hell...maybe you should get the fuck out of this country….and if I ever see your sorry ass again...ESPECIALLY near that hospital...I will line you AND your two kids against the wall of this fucking basement and have a merry fucking marshmallow roast...your kids will go live with your brother Arthur...do you FUCKING understand?”

The man scowls up at slick and nods shakily.

“Good.” Slick nods and gets to his feet, brushing soot off of his suit. He starts to walk out and the rest of his team follow him “The superintendent of this building should come around either today or tomorrow...until then….”

Slick shrugs his shoulders “Well we are in a church...maybe you should catch up on your prayers…”

The color from the scene drains and the walls fall from view, the rest of the scene turns to mist and dissipates. Trees spring up and once again they are in the woods by the train tracks. A suited figure stands tied to a tree. Karkat recognizes him from Kankri’s memories as the man that shot Kankri junior.

“PLEASE!” silky black hair falls down from what was once a stylish updo into his gaunt young face. “I DIDN’T KNOW HE WAS YOUR KID!”

Slick stands across from the other man, a wild look in his eyes, his suit is messy and still stained with Kankri’s blood.

“OH WELL.” Slick says sarcastically, swinging a shotgun back and forth “AN ACCIDENT! WELL GEE WHIZ I GUESS WE CAN ALL GO HOME NOW!”

The man looks relieved for a minute before Slick grabs the other man’s face roughly, the force of slick’s grasp makes the other man’s lips pucker involuntarily like a fish’s.

“You see Cronus…” Slick looks down at him the same way someone looks at shit on their shoes “This isn’t the kind of mistake that's just forgiven…”

Slick aims the gun at the other man’s chest. The gunshot sounds through the woods and startled birds fly off to find new perches. Slick gets back into his car, the rest of his team following him in and they drive off into the night, leaving nothing but the slumped corpse of yet another one of Slick’s former acquaintances…

 

Slick faces Karkat in the void.

“so this is it...that's all of it…..” Slick whispers.

Karkat holds his hands to his mouth and turns away. He tries his best not to gag after what he’s just witnessed. He runs his hands through his hair and gulps down deep breathes of air, trying to will away the queasiness, the feeling of needing to vomit, as if his body thinks that vomiting would help get rid of what he just saw…

“Kid..” Slick makes a move to wrap an arm around Karkat, but Karkat holds out his palm to stop him, still not willing to look at Slick until he’s recovered.

Karkat swallows down the taste of bile, and isn’t that weird? He’s a mother fucking ghost and he still feels like he needs to vomit. That's the power of watching the only father you ever knew kidnap you as a child and then murder and terrorize people isn’t it?

Karkat sits on the ground and buries his head between his knees, he rocks back and forth and pulls at his hair “I don’t know how to do this...I don’t know how to do this... “

Slick awkwardly sits next to him, but doesn’t make another move to touch him. He’s obviously uncomfortable with the situation and plays absentmindedly with the cufflinks on his suit.

“look kid…” he starts awkwardly. He clears his throat and starts again “Kid...you gotta throw me aside...its the way this has got to be done I...Shit...your real dad would have been so much better at this…”

Karkat lifts his head enraged “MY REAL DAD?!!! MY REAL DAD???!! YOU WERE MY REAL DAD!!!!”

Slick’s eyes are wide with shock “but kid-”

“OK YES I HAD A BIOLOGICAL DAD! AND IT WAS REALLY GREAT AND SHIT TO MEET HIM BUT HE DIDN’T RAISE ME! I DIDN’T EVEN MEET HIM UNTIL I WAS DEAD!! UNTIL I WAS FUCKING DEAD!!” 

He pokes Slick in the chest “YOU WERE THE ONLY DAD I EVER KNEW YOU SHITLOAF! AND YOU FUCKING RUINED IT!!”  
Karkat scrubs his face with his hands “....It would be easier if I didn’t understand why you did what you did…”

Tears streamed down Karkat’s face “But I’m a shit dad too...When John died I pushed Casey away because I couldn’t look at her...I couldn’t fucking look at her and now I’m dead and I’m stuck here and she’s OUT THERE HURTING!”

“What you did was inexcusable...but there was a time where you were a good dad, A REALLY FUCKING GOOD DAD!”

Karkat shakes his head “I wish I could just cut you apart into your shitty and unshitty bits you know? I wish I could keep the dad that took me to the zoo as a kid, and baked me birthday cakes, and ridiculously domestic shit like that, and throw away all of the shitty parts that made me fight and hate myself. I want to pull out of you the guy that was my other dad’s BEST FRIEND, the guy who tried to save him, and the guy that saved me and Kankri from the foster system...I want to dig that out of the man who became part of a gang, who left my father to die, who kidnapped me from my mother, who terrorized and killed people…”

Karkat stared out into the void “....but I can’t...you’re both at the same time…”

“I wish the good could cancel out the bad, but it doesn’t! 5 wrongs and 6 rights does not equal 1 right, it equals one FUCK OF A SHITLORD WHO DID A LOT OF GOOD AND BAD THINGS!!”

Karkat flops down to the void, his arms over his face. His deep sobs wracked through his entire body as molten hot tears streamed down his contorted face. Slick sat nearby and looked like he wanted to pick Karkat up and hold him, but he didn’t dare try to touch him.

Karkat took deep rasping wet breaths through his sobbing “...You wanted to make me strong but all you really did was force me to have this hard outer shell. Inside I just got FUCKING weaker!”

Karkat turned away from slick in the void “....I met John and he was one of the first people to support me emotionally after YOU FUCKING STOPPED...I just kept leaning more and more of my burdens on him...he would just smile and carry us both...we spent more than sixty years together and….”

Karkat clenched his teeth as a new round of tears streamed across his face “....And now I don’t have him anymore…..”

Karkat clenched his hands into the void and simply bawled, curling up into himself with anguish. Slick couldn’t take it anymore. As careful as handling glass, Slick put one hand under Karkat’s tiny child-sized head, and another under the crook of his knees. With all of the tenderness of a real father putting a child to bed he picked Karkat up. Karkat’s eyes bolted wide and he continued to sniffle, as Slick gently set him against his chest. He unbuttoned the coat of his Jacket and nestled Karkat inside like a baby duck under its mother’s wings. Slick rocked them both back and forth as he carded a hand through Karkat’s hair. Karkat slowly closed his eyes.

“...I’m sorry…” Slick comforted Karkat in his child form “You’ve had to go through so much and none of it has been fair to you...you had to see so many things you never wanted to see...it was too much...it was too much…” Slick murmured in low comforting tones.

Karkat was trying to find the right words to TELL Slick, perhaps that he died in his eighties and shouldn’t be treated like a child, that this didn’t make up for anything, that he used to have a daughter of his own and he knows what he’s doing and that it won’t work.

But Karkat was tired. He was tired, honestly this whole afterlife shit was really getting to him. Just one ginormous ghostly rollercoaster ride of guilt, pain, anger and anguish.

“...Its been a big long couple of days for you...you’ve had to deal with a lot of stuff… a lot of stuff that you shouldn’t have had to deal with, but you do and I’m sorry…”

He knew why. He knew it wasn’t fair. He knew that Slick wasn’t a good person...not in the least...But there were good parts to him...The same way that all of Slick’s good didn’t erase the bad he did, all of the bad he did didn’t erase the good. He could pick up the pieces of his dad that he loved and look back on them fondly and without any guilt. He took the pain too, all of the ugly parts of his father, he could take them and understand them and know them, look back on them, but not let them taint his heart. He knew that it would take a very very long time for Slick to earn back his trust, if he ever could…

But hey...Eternity is a really long time.

It wasn’t a perfect solution. Karkat leaned against his father’s chest and listened to him talk low comforting things. No it wasn’t a perfect solution, but Karkat felt a certain clarity that he hadn’t felt it a very long time. It didn’t feel like forgiveness, not really. It felt like sewing up a sore part of his heart. It felt like returning to the spot where your house burned down and remembering your life there with fondness, the bitter sweetness of salvaging a few treasured things from the wreckage. It felt like rain after a forest fire. He tucked his head into his father’s neck. It was like taking shatters of broken glass and arranging them into something new.

He took a deep breath and hugged his father back.

Slick paused, but then he squeezed him back in an even tighter embrace.

Karkat smiled, as his father started to fade through his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okalie dokalie folks this is the last Slick chapter. It might feel weird but when it comes down to finding peace after people have hurt you in your life, things aren't always cut and dry. Everyone needs to find their own way to peace, people don't need to be forgiven entirely. Some actions stay shitty no matter how long has passed but you don't need to let those things hurt you. Its not forgiveness exactly, but its a way of growing as a person that is far more realistic than just straight up forgiveness. forgiveness is very important and its a very important answer. but its not THE answer. Or not really the entire answer.
> 
> please comment what you think! I really like hearing feedback from you guys! guests tooI I love each and every one of you angst sailors.
> 
> Next chapter. The "IT"


	15. Carnival painted on a nursery room wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this isn't the dreaded "IT" yet. I figured out that you guys needed some more backstory before we got to the IT. But it leads up to the IT, so that's something.
> 
> This is a flashback to the days before and after Gamzee's death.

Nearly forty years before Karkat died, Gamzee stood hunched over, his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he painstakingly painted on a nursery room wall. 

It was a gorgeous mural, spanning the entire room in an explosion of color, animals and circus tents, bejeweled trapeze artists and jolly little clowns laughed and performed in a never-ending summer day that surrounded those inside the room. Clouds swirled like whipped cream and tiny little birds flitted through the scene. Two giraffes nuzzled each other and their necks bent into the shape of a heart, Gamzee was concentrating on a tiny set of four figures in the heart.

Karkat stood above him where he was supposed to be helping put the nursery together, But honestly it was John who moved all the furniture, and when he tried to put the rocking chair together it was a catastrophic failure (what the fuck even is with furniture instructions), and whenever he tried to help decorate, the very preganant Jane would flit in and undo anything he did before flitting out again.

Jane was in a frenzy. It was quite a commonly understood fact that whenever Jane Crocker was stressed she would clean or bake or do both. Karkat remembers one time during finals in college when he and John had walked in on her crying while vacuuming the ceiling, John had quietly picked Karkat up and carried him right back out the house as to not disturb her. Right now Jane’s natural nature to clean when nervous had been exacerbated by her pregnancy.

Human females when going through the magical, and honestly kinda gross, state of pregnancy, go through what is known as “the nesting instinct” anyone who has ever had a child, or seen their mother pregnant before the birth of their sibling, knows exactly what this is and probably doesn’t remember it fondly. Pregnant woman will clean and decorate and move and prod everything in their immediate vicinity almost without rest.

This prolonged state of frenzied cleaning, means that Jane Crocker was cleaning things that people don’t ever clean, and honestly probably shouldn’t clean. She was far beyond vacuuming the ceiling, she did that days ago. Jane Crocker cleaned the air ducts, the undersides of chairs, electrical outlets, the undersides of paintings, the tool shed (each rake was expertly polished) and other improbable, and honestly impractical places. The house was unnaturally clean, it reminded Karkat of living in a dollhouse.

Gamzee was for the most-part, extremely patient with all of this. It was a big surprise to the group when A+ honor student Jane Crocker got together with the laid-back school pothead, but honestly their natures seem to improve each other. Jane poked and prodded Gamzee into good grades and managed to get him into college, while Gamzee’s easy-going-ness managed to smooth down some of Jane’s high-strung nature.

Jane was a business woman, and a workaholic, and life at home didn’t really seem to suit her. She was used to the long hours and late nights that it took to help run a company. As an heiress to the Betty Crocker Corporation, she was expected to take over some day. She was absolutely certain the board of directors was plotting against her while she was on maternity leave, and damn if she didn’t want to jump back into the saddle and show them their place. Gamzee on the other hand had always painted at home. He had majored in studio arts and he comfortably painted his bright and surreal pictures in their home studio. It was a silent agreement between them that Jane would go back to work and that Gamzee would stay at home with the kids. Karkat had joked that Gamzee was like the wife in their marriage, but he only smiled. He was looking forward to being a stay-at-home dad. His dad growing up was complete shit and he was going to make it his mission to be a good dad.

Gamzee smiled and Helped Jane move this or that. He helped her to her feet when her large belly made it difficult. He bought her ice cream at 2:00 am when her weird pregnancy cravings resurfaced. He went to baby supplies stores with Jane, even though she was the one who bought all of the sensible things like cribs, trash cans, bottles and breast pumps (Gamzee played with the breast pumps in the store and wiggled his eyebrows and she almost made him go home) while Gamzee only seemed to buy mountains of toys and plushies (mainly circus animals and goats).

Karkat pointed at the little figures Gamzee was focusing on as he painted the mural in the kid’s room.

“So who are those?” Karkat asked.

Gamzee smiled up at Karkat, his jeans and his purple t-shirt flecked with paint, his long unruly hair combed up into a ponytail, his wedding ring glinting on his hand. He pointed to one of the figures, a short curvy woman in a magician’s tuxedo.

“Can’t you up and mother-fucking tell best friend? This up here is Janey, she’s a magician cuz’ she’s up and filled with miracles man…”

Gamzee points to a tall and lanky figure next to her in clown makeup “Now this lanky-ass mother-fucker is up and your’s truly, you know how I up and dig them clowns man…”

The two smaller figures besides Jane and Gamzee weren’t painted in yet, the only two missing pieces in the large sprawling mural. “Now I up and don’t know know what our little miracles up and fucking look like yet...we’ll have to wait for Janey to pop them little fuckers out and let em’ grow up a bit, get to see them and know what kind of miracles they mother-fucking are before I paint them in…”

Jane waddled into the room, carrying an odd assortment of things she had been cleaning and now returning to their rightful places, wrenches, lightbulbs, coffee tins and shoelaces among other items were bunched in her arms.

“Just paint them from the back Gamzee…” Jane offered.

Gamzee sighed “I ain’t never mother-fucking seen their hair yet Janey..”

Jane rolled her eyes “Gamzee...My hair is black...your hair is black..both my brother’s and my sister’s hair..my father’s...my grandmother’s hair.. All of them!! Black!!”

She pointed to him “Your hair...your father’s and your brother’s hair from what I’ve seen in photos, had both been black...Now your mother’s hair?”

Gamzee shrugged “Can’t mother-fucking tell ya chica..ain’t never seen the lady…”

Jane looked uncomfortable for a moment before she continued “Well...even IF she was a platinum blonde, I highly doubt our children will have anything but black hair!”

Gamzee grinned “Can you up and imagine one of our little miracles up and having mother-fucking blonde hair? It would be cute as fuck Janey, motherfucking cute as FUCK.”

Jane huffed “It would be highly unlikely, can you imagine? Blonde hair? It would be ridiculous…”

“OH! and another thing!” Jane put her hands to her hips “You’re not allowed to swear when the babies come!”

Gamzee put his hands up into the air “Since when have I been up and mother-fucking swearing?”

“.....”

“That was a fucking accident…”

“.....”

“shit…..”

Jane put one hand to her face and sighed before she went out of the room to return her newly-cleaned odds and ends.

Gamzee looked at his little figures and scratched his chin in thought, a little smear of purple paint following the motion. He dipped his brush in light yellow paint.

“Now I up and have a feeling about this one Kar-bro, If I’m up and wrong about this shit then I’ll change it when the time comes, but call this a mother-fucking premonition of some kind…”

He painted one figure with little blonde curls, and the other with black. He washed out his paint brushes in a little mason jar full of water. He nodded approvingly at his work.

“little Calliope… lil’ Caliborn…” He smiled at the little painted family “I can’t wait to up and fucking meet you lil’ miracles…”

 

It was approximately 2:00 am on a tuesday when Jane Crocker got the worst phone call of her life.

John and Karkat sat on either side of Jane as they sat on a cool metal bench in the hall of the city morgue. They were waved inside to a little booth where there was a glass window overlooking the main area of the mogue. John and Karkat held her hands as someone with a surgical mask wheeled a long body on a stretcher in front of the window.

Jane squeezed their hands and the man pulled back the sheet to the body’s shoulders.

All in all, it was considerate of the masked morgue worker not to pull the sheet down farther. He was trying to spare her the sight of so many bullets riddling Gamzee’s chest, but one bullet hole could still be seen on his neck. It had been raining that night and Terezi had told Karkat quietly that Gamzee’s body could have been left in the convenience store parking lot for an hour before the store owner noticed and called it in, she doubted that they would be able to find much forensic evidence of any use. His long curly black hair was in terrible tangles, but it seems that the morgue workers did their best to smooth it from his face. His skin was pale and waxy and his eyes were dull and lifeless, almost like glass.

Jane grit her teeth, and for one moment it all seemed like a terrible dream. Like she would wake up and none of this would have ever happened. She remembered how she saw Gamzee last, zipping up his coat against the light drizzle and smiling as he agreed to get a new brand of baby food she wanted to check out before the twins arrived.

He had smiled, and kissed her on the nose. She had giggled and pushed him lightly out the door.

She didn’t know it would be the last time she would see him.

She really ought to have said something profound...to have told him she loved him or…

Thats when it hit her like a truck. In one big wave the realization that GAMZEE WAS DEAD AND SHE WOULD NEVER GET TO TELL HIM THAT EVER AGAIN slammed into her mind and she burst into hot angry helpless tears.

Oh and she was angry because HOW DARE someone shoot him! How dare someone take someone who was her’s? She’s never going to talk to him again and it's ALL THEIR FAULT.

John caught Jane as she slid to the floor in a mess of angry anguished tears. Karkat sat next to her as she screamed. She howled and wept and buried her face into her brother’s neck as he stroked her hair as she sobbed.

Jane seemed to double over in pain. She grabbed Karkat’s arm and pulled him over, her hand bunched in John’s shirt gripped it so hard that the seams started to pop. Jane pulled Karkat’s face up to meet her’s. Jane’s face was red and tears still rolled down her cheeks.

“DOCTOR. NOW.” Jane demanded.

“HOLY SHIT NOW???” Karkat asked wide-eyed, he looked to John and John started back equally shocked.

“YES NOW YOU IDIOTS HURRY!!!!” Jane screamed as another wrack of pain shuddered through her body.

And that's how Jane went into labor in a city morgue.

Babies really do have the worst timing.

 

Karkat and John went back home with Jane, each of them carrying a tiny little bundle back into the house. John’s little bundle Calliope, apparently her name was, slept soundly with a tiny little smile on her face. Karkat held the other baby as far away from his face as possible while still being safe for the health of the baby. Caliborn, even in as an infant, was destined to be the biggest douche the world has, or ever will, see.

At that point in their careers John had only done a couple of movies, but it was enough to have paparazzi follow him and dig through their trash. Karkat made sure not to wrap any of the baby diapers they threw out for exactly this reason. Enjoy being covered in baby poop assholes! They seemed to be drawn to the tragedy of Gamzee’s death like vultures to a carcass in promise of a good meal. John was harassed every time he tried to go out and buy baby food or formula. Karkat wasn’t as easily recognizable as John was, but the vultures soon caught on to him too.

Karkat quietly hired a couple of workers from his movie studio to go on errands for them as John and Karkat looked after Jane and the babies.

As a strange result of Gamzee’s death, the worth of his paintings skyrocketed. The worth of paintings always go up when an artist dies, but the media circus surrounding his death, the people he was connected to, and Jane’s steadfast resilience to giving up even a single painting that Gamzee had not already sold, made the prices skyrocket.

Jane was a strong and fierce woman, but Gamzee’s death and postpartum depression landed a devastating blow to her. There would be days when she would wake up at a reasonable time and take care of the babies with John, kissing Calliope sweetly and chastising Caliborn whenever he did something naughty. Caliborn cried so much that they suspected Cholera, but after a quick home visit by a pediatrician that theory was quashed. Karkat suspected that the baby was just an asshole, but he didn’t really want to voice that in front of Jane.

Other days she would be so tired. She would lie in bed awake, but too tired to move and John would pet her hair while she laid her head in his lap and Karkat would bring her a cup of tea. Karkat started to stay more with Jane on those days, and they laughed and talked about Gamzee fondly.

Sometimes Jane would just sit in the nursery and stare at the mural that Gamzee made, and their little family that he painted, smiling together under the bent necks of giraffes in an endless summer carnival.

Calliope’s hair began to grow in and Jane laughed and cried.

“Look!” she called out to Karkat, wisping a lock of pale blonde between her fingers. “Blonde!”

She snickered and tears ran down her face. She cried and she laughed and she cried some more. “Blonde... just like he said...It's like he’s playing one last joke on me…”

John and Karkat sat on Jane’s couch, Caliborn had been crying all day and they just now got him to sleep. Calliope lay between them, looking around curiously and wiggling in her little blanket. John stroked her cheek and she smiled and cooed.

“Awww...Karkat she’s so cute…” John smiled down at her and Calliope wiggled more. “She’s got the Harley family eyes...they’re just like Jade’s…”

Karkat smiled down at her gently “...Too bad her brother is just terrible…”

John shrugged “I used to think babies were all like that, constantly screaming and pooping, but Callie seems so sweet…”

John paused and looked to Karkat “....would you ever want to...you know?...Have a baby”

Karkat laughed “...Well we’re both dudes so no matter what the internet thinks, I think its pretty unlikely we would just HAVE a baby…besides...I don’t want to ruin my figure”

John laughed and patted Karkat’s thick hips “I like your figure, no matter what it is, and besides...I would totally have our butt babies…”

Karkat put his hand to his mouth to try and stifle a snorting laugh “Oh my god John no.”

John lifted up his shirt and gently tucked Callie inside, she cooed confused. John rubbed the lump like a pregnant belly and Karkat laughed harder.

“Oh no!! Karkat!! the baby!! Its coming!!” John grunted and groaned and pretended to push Callie out as he pulled her out of his shirt. Callie kicked up her little feet in her onesie and laughed too.

Karkat laughed and kissed John on the cheek. He looked to John and little Calliope laughing and smiling at each other and-

“yeah…” Karkat smiled and nodded “....maybe we should have kids…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the IT yet! some of you have had your theories so I will be really excited when I finally reveal some shit. 
> 
> Keep on sailing little angst sailors. keep on sailing.
> 
> For the record I will always answer your questions! (as much as I can without getting spoilery) I love love love! hearing from you guys so don't be afraid to comment! You are welcome to come bug me on tumblr! its the same as my ao3 name here! You're not bothering me or being annoying, I am but a humble nerd and none of my irl friends read homestuck!
> 
> If this fic continues on once college has started up again it may get slower to update :( but I will finish this fucker! mark my words!
> 
> btw pay attention to how Gamzee is described here and how he is described when his ghost meets Jane in Chapter 3. Also THE DAY THAT EVERYTHING HORRIBLE HAPPENS ON.


	16. Weon's night sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fist part of THE IT.
> 
> I would like to apologize in advance.
> 
> The names are Korean since the country of Derspit was based in my mind on North/South Korea.
> 
> Here is where we meet Weon-Vee.

Now it's a pretty standard thing for a celebrity to have causes. Any public relations manager would advise a celebrity to have one cause or another and to be filmed volunteering for said cause once in a while. It’s just the thing to do if you’re a celebrity, something that's considered rather quite standard once you’ve reached a certain level of fame. John put quite a bit of money into a little organization that went into the conversation of Amazonian bannana salamanders. They were huge dog-sized yellow salamanders that John absolutely adored ( Karkat thought were exceptionally gross, but whatever makes John happy).

Karkat had chosen an orphanage.

There was really no particular reason that Karkat had chosen an orphanage at the time, he just figured he had to choose something, and orphanages sound like the type of thing that needs to be supported. The south asian country of Derspit was going through a civil war and unfortunately a lot of children were orphaned because of it. He had gotten updates on the orphanage every once in a while, little beaded necklaces and drawings, and pictures of row after row of little asian kids smiling.

Its not like he didn’t care, he wasn’t heartless, but from thousands of miles away and with your only real involvement being throwing money at it, It didn’t really feel personal. Its not like he knew any of the kids.

However, when John had mentioned wanting kids while babysitting Calliope and Caliborn, it just seemed like the right place to start.

John grinned at Karkat when he mentioned the idea “We’re so going to Bradgelina this…”

Karkat put his hands to his hips “Fuck yeah we’re Brad pitt and Angelina Jolie…”

John jumped up and down like an excited toddler “I’m going to get the bunny!”

 

Karkat may or may not have been secretly hoping that John was going to get tired of the idea of getting a kid, but after he retrieved his childhood stuffed bunny “Liv Tyler” from a trunk, he knew that he was serious about this. Karkat was surprisingly ok with this… He might actually even...be getting a little excited…

There were times when Karkat woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat because WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING THEY DON’T KNOW JACK SHIT ABOUT BABIES.

But there were other times, that he really liked the idea. John was so excited, and even if he didn’t really know what he was doing either, they would be figuring it out together…

He didn’t really realize though how soon John wanted that kid. He thought it would be years..

One day, only a month after Karkat agreed that kids would be a good idea, Karkat came home to find John in one of the extra bedrooms, swatches of blue, pink, yellow and green on the wall, as well as tiny little swatches of wallpaper patterns, little butterflies and starry night skies. A tiny little bunkbed was already set out as well as a little chest of draws and a nightstand.

John looked thoughtfully at the colors “....So what do you think of green?”

Karkat shrugged “That's an awful fucking green...what's so wrong with blue?”

John turned to him “Well...we don’t know if we’re getting a boy or a girl yet…green and yellow are gender neutral...”

Karkat huffed “I’ve never seen a guy with a yellow bedroom...besides…. once we’ve chosen the kid, they can came here and fucking decide for themselves ok?”

John grinned “Of course! that makes so much more sense! I’ll book the plane tickets now!”

“Wait what?...”

 

And thats how Karkat came to be sitting on a rough wooden bench outside the playroom of an asian orphanage, jetlagged from the long plane ride with an over excited John bouncing next to him. John nervously clutched the rabbit, he twiddled with the plush’s ears as he bounced up and down and bit his lip. Karkat was 100% sure that John was living his fantasy of finally having a kid to give that stupid rabbit to and reenact that once scene from Con air. Out the window a little stream surrounded by palm trees slinked pleasantly by.

Karkat listened to the sounds of kids playing from the other side of the wall, he had a pounding headache from the plane trip and the playful screeches and giggles grated on his mind. What the fuck were they doing? It hadn’t really sunk in yet the gravity of what they were about to do.

This was a kid.

A real live tiny person that they would have for the rest of their lives.

A tiny little person that could be seriously FUCKED UP if they didn’t do their jobs right.

He should’ve just have let John get a dog or a fucking amazonian banana salamander.

An elegant and pale asian woman approached them where they sat on the bench. She wore a bright and colorful dress and a warm smile. She bowed slightly at them and they stood up to greet her. Karkat wasn’t really sure if he should bow back or not so mostly he just stood awkwardly and fidgeted.

John waved and grinned. “HI!”

“Hello.” Her accent was thick, but her english was impeccable “my name is Qi, I run the facility here, we are very honored by the visit of our benefactor” She looked over them both and nodded “It is our hope that one of our little ones will find a home with you..”

“hwaiteu kwin!!!!” a little voice called out from the room.

Qi laughed lightly politely into her hand and responded back to the child. Karkat regrets not even taking a translation dictionary with them. They really are shit at this.

John looks out to where the child called from “What was that?”

Qi smiles “A nickname...The children here call me ‘white queen’...they got the idea from one of the books you sent”

Karkat didn’t even know he sent any books.

She turns and puts a hand to the door leading to the playroom “Feel free to talk to our little ones, if you have any questions, please ask me.”

She opened the door and the world exploded into sound and rushing color. The large room was absolutely filled with children, all of them laughing and running and singing and jumping up and down. Little raven haired girls braided each other’s hair and tapped around the room with little plastic horses. Little boys ran and jumped and chased after the girl’s horses with their toy trucks. A group of kids crawled by roaring, pretending to be tigers. Others bounced balls or walked barbies across the floor.

Qi smiled at Karkat “The children love the toys you sent.”

Some of the kids bowed slightly as they walked by, before going back off to continue to pretend to be tigers or to jam barbies into little toy cars. A little group of almond-eyed girls tittered and put their hands to their mouths as John walked by, they bounced up to him and took his hands. John bent over as they pulled him along, and soon he was absolutely enveloped by children, laughing and smiling and using him as their own personal jungle gym. He was soon integrated into their little games, smiling and braiding a little girls hair or pretending to be bear as they shrieked and ran from clawed hands that only threatened to tickle. A lot of american toys were sent over apparently, and he was trying his best to show them how monopoly was actually played instead of using the cardboard as a tent for Barbies and babydolls to sleep under.

John was having the time of his life, but honestly, Karkat felt a little bit left out. He watched the sea of little smiling faces envelope John as he stood to the side awkwardly. Qi had already left by now and he felt overwhelmed.

He quietly left the playroom, his headache worse than before. He closed the door behind him and the sound of all those children were hushed. He left the cool quiet of the hallway surround him, lit only by the daylight outside, setting long shadows across the bamboo floor. He wandered quietly through the hall, he supposed he would look for a kitchen or something to get a glass of water.

He wandered for a couple of minutes down long hallways, occasionally stepping over the stray doll or book, passing room after room of bedrooms filled with toys and bunkbeds. He comes across an empty mess hall, posters in a language he doesn’t recognize, but logically should be derspitarian…

He walks through the cafeteria, his shoes clacking loudly in the silence, past long low metal tables with matching benches. He makes his way to the kitchen and turns on the light, the fluorescent light up above buzzes noisily before the room is lit by the stark white light.

God it looks like they could feed an army from here. Pots hang from the ceiling, fridges and large bulky stoves with oversized pots line the walls. He starts rooting through what seems like endless cupboards trying to find a cup.

Thats when he hears it.

A small, distant sort of scuffling. He looks around the room trying to find the source of the noise. The fluorescent light casts long low shadows across the cabinets. He treads carefully into the room, occasionally opening up drawers or cabinets, trying to find that sound. He comes toward a door at the end of the kitchen, he presses his ear against it and the noise gets louder. He slowly turns the knob he quickly pushes the door in and-

The sound of dull metal clacking and crashing down fill his ears as the door he pushes inthe door and knocks down a tall stack of metal cans. A very tiny little boy stands in the center of the room, he’s dressed in a T-shirt that is absolutely way too big for him, Karkat can only see the shorts he wears underneath when he puts his hands to his hips and huffs. The little boy pouts angrily, his tiny little bottom lip sticking out as he frowns, he points at Karkat and angrily gestures towards the fallen tower. The non-verbal “WHAT THE FUCK MAN?” is registered loud and clear.

Karkat looks at the little boy “....uh….sorry…” He apologizes and rubs his neck.

The little boy sighs and takes Karkat’s hand. He leads Karkat further into the room and sits him down on the ground very authoritatively. He hands Karkat a can of beans and points at the fallen tower, the little boy successfully non-verbally communicates “FIX IT” with this little gesture. Karkat sheepishly picks up the cans and starts to stack.

He looks around the little room. It looks like they’re in a pantry right now. The little boy has been taking cans from the boxes lining the walls, along with books, boxes, forks and other random bits and pieces to construct a sprawling city that covers the entirety of the pantry floor. large pieces of paper are scattered across the floor and taped to the walls where the little boy has been coloring streets and stars and moons. Its actually pretty impressive.

Karkat takes one of the little pieces of paper and folds a paper plane, he uses a little bit of string from a package in the room to tie the little plane to the bottom of a nearby shelf, the little boy grins at his handiwork and he feels oddly accomplished. He helps the little boy balance a book on a couple of forks to make an awning for a can building. He colors in little bushes along the sides of the streets, the little boy draws little stick figures walking about in his city. Karkat is on his stomach coloring and the little boy uses him as a backrest as he stacks books and cans into the vague shape of a clocktower.

This is...oddly nice.

Karkat’s phone buzzes in his pocket. The little boy looks curiously over his shoulder when he takes it out and reads the new text.

EB: Kitty!

EB: Beep beep meow!

EB: Oh darling love of my life.

EB: My little plushbutt

EB: My screaming pumpkin

EB: Where are you? I’ve taught almost a hundred kids how to play monopoly.

EB: Me and Gyeong pretended to be tigers, she won, I’m not sure how you win at pretending to be a tiger but she did.

EB: Also Hoon stuck a Barbie in an electrical socket.

EB: It was amazing.

EB: Seung painted my nails. He’s a very gifted stylist.

Karkat rolled his eyes.

CG: I’M IN THE PANTRY BY THE KITCHEN.  


EB:....Why the pantry?  


CG: JUST FUCKING GET OVER HERE.

The little boy pointed at the word “FUCKING” on the screen. “What this word?” He whispered quietly.

Fucking god dammit, Karkat was already failing as a parent and- WAIT WHAT?

Karkat looked at the little boy “WAIT YOU CAN SPEAK ENGLISH?”

The little boy nodded “Yes. they teached us. Teached us the word for fruits, apple, orange, mango. Next week is the time we learn numbers!”

The door swung open “Kitty are you in here?” another can tower crashes to the ground.

The little boy’s face scrunches up in a tiny little angry pout and holy crap thats adorable. He points at John and then at the tower. He puts his tiny little hands to his hips and huffs.

“ooooooo….” Karkat teases “...You’re in troooouuuble….”

John holds up his hands in defense, each one of his nails sloppily painted purple and pink with tiny little hello kitty stickers on them. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know!”

The little boy takes John’s hand and sits him next to Karkat, he hands him another jar and points at the broken tower.

John whispers to Karkat “...Wait what?”

Karkat nudges him back “He wants you to fix it, you fucking knocked down the school John, where are all the can kids supposed to receive an education now?”

John obediently started to rebuild the can school. They colored and laughed. John drew tiny yellow salamanders walking through town and the little boy nodded approvingly.

“So uh….” John started “...I’m John..” he gently pushes Karkat “And this is Karkat...what’s your name?”

The little boy smiled and put a hand to his chest “Weon-Vee!”

Karkat and John both tried to say it but failed, Weon laughed and shook his head at their attempts “WV!!” he said. He leaned back and gestured to the little sprawling can town around them “And I am the mayor!”

The rest of the afternoon was spent drawing and laughing. John made a tiny little sash out of some paper and string that said mayor. Weon was proud of his little sash and kept reminding them that he had it, puffing out his tiny little chest with pride. John folded them tiny little paper hats and Weon declared them official builders. John told Weon about christmas lights and how cool it would be to string them above the city like little stars. Weon would sit in John’s lap and direct him to move this or that, John picked him up to help him reach something on a high shelf and he laughed. Karkat told Weon that no self-respecting city would be complete without a cinema and he whole-heartedly agreed. He told them that he only ever saw a movie once when Qi took them on a trip to the big city, but he whole-heartedly believed that movies were the best kind of magic there were. Karkat told him what they did for a living, and Weon asked a million questions about how it all worked.

“Yes but how??” The little boy flailed his arms around “How do they make the people tiny to be on the movie??!!”

Before dinner time they left the pantry with Weon giggling and swinging between their arms. Weon hugged their legs and waved goodbye before he left to go eat with the other children.

Qi looked on the scene and smiled “...I take it that is the one?” She asked.

Karkat looked at John questioningly, John smiled and nodded, Karkat smiled back and turned to address Qi. “Yes…” he smiled wider than he had in years “That’s definitely the one…”

After dinner Qi led Weon to a small room where Karkat and John were already waiting, his tiny little flip flops slapping against the bamboo floor as he held Qi’s hand. Weon took one look into the room and bounded in to give both of them a hug. They laughed and John picked him up and put him on the couch with him.

“Weon…” Karkat had gotten much better at pronouncing his name “We have a very important question to ask you.”

Weon stared back and nodded, his eyes wide.

John laced his hands with Karkat’s “We were wondering…” John paused and smiled at Karkat “...If you would like to be our kid….if you would like to be a family with us..”

Weon looked over both of them, eyes wide as if he were trying to figure out if they were joking or not. He smiled and giggled, all of a sudden overcome with shyness he hid his face in his hands, he nodded vigorously and leaned towards Karkat. Karkat obligingly wrapped him up in a hug, Weon clutched at his shirt and buried his face in the fabric, nodding and giggling the whole time.

his little round face peeked back up. “....I go with you?” he asked quietly.

Qi looked away sadly.

Karkat shook his head “Not yet Weon...but soon…”

“nooooooooo….” Weon clutched at Karkat’s shirt and whined, John gently lifted his chin so he could look him in the eyes.

“Theres a lot of legal junk we have to do first, but we promise we’ll come back…” He dug out his plush bunny from one of the pockets in his coat. “I want you to have this Weon, I promised I would give it to my kid one day…”

Weon hugged the little bunny and sniffled “....you promise?”

John nodded earnestly “We promise...just one question…”

Weon nodded seriously, clutching the bunny like a liferaft.

John smiled “There's a little kid’s bedroom back home waiting for you...what color should we paint it?”

Weon grinned “Stars and moons and lots of kris-mash lights! I want to make many towns under my own night sky!”

John grinned “done.”

Weon leveled them with a very serious stare “Now I have the question for you…”

John and Karkat nodded, Weon looked back and forth between the two men.

“Which one is mom?”

For a moment they were stunned, but very slowly….John raised his finger to point to Karkat. Karkat scowled and batted his hand away. 

Weon laughed.

 

The plane ride back home seemed almost too lonely to bear. They went to the little room and painted it the deep blue of the night sky. John bought packs of glow-in the dark stars and they peppered their little sky together. Karkat got a little model of the solar system from Jade and hung it in the middle.

They fell asleep under Weon’s night sky and dreamed, smiles on their faces and love in their hearts.

 

They dreamed and the Derspitian civil war exploded into chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this might have made more sense for it to be the mayor if this was a davekat fic but I'm the author and I decided so there.
> 
> the names are all Korean but if I offended any real life Koreans in any way I apologize.
> 
> please tell me what you think. I love hearing from you guys! please please yell at me for what I'm about to do. I can't get away with this.
> 
> Also *yeeeeee boiiiiii we made it to 1000 hits!!!*


	17. Rescue mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited next installment!
> 
> Have you ever noticed that everything bad that happens in this fic happens on a tuesday? John died on a tuesday, Jane got the call that Gamzee was dead on a tuesday, now John and Karkat find out about the civil war on a tuesday. I bet that Karkat even died on a tuesday...
> 
> I guess subconsciously I believe that Tuesday is the day for horrible things to happen. I should start updating on Tuesdays to spread the tuesday angst. But not today, today is monday angst. 
> 
> Anywho! heres the new chapter!

Karkat was curled up on a child-sized mattress, John was sprawled out over the floor curled so that only his legs were still on the bed, both of their hands were stained blue from painting last night.

Karkat woke up first, he tried to stretch in the tiny bed but only managed to bonk his head against the headboard. He growled and rubbed his head groggily. He frowned when he saw that he definitely wasn’t in their bedroom, but realization soon dawned on him and a small smile came over his face. He stared up at the ceiling and admired their handiwork, blue with tiny little stars speckled across the walls, the little solar system they hung up, its tiny little planets spinning around its sun. Two tanned legs sat next to him on the mattress and he followed the lengths down to where John lay snoring on the floor, his face mushed into the carpet, his hair messy, his shirt rucked up and dark blue staining his hands.

Karkat smiled fondly down at John. What a cute fucking idiot.

Karkat yawned and ran a hand through his hair, eww his hands were covered in dried blue paint. He shimmied off of the bottom bunk of the kid’s bunk bed and stretched out. He dug his toes into the carpet. He gently nudged John with his foot.

“...hey turdloaf…” he whispered.

John just mumbled something incoherent about “no dad I don’t want any cake today…”

Karkat rolled his eyes and used his foot to roll John over on the carpet. “Come on shit biscuit we fell asleep in Weon’s room, come on I’ll make some coffee…”

John arched his back on the carpeting, his back audibly cracking, he groaned. “....kitty why the fuck am I so sore?.....”

Karkat looked down at John amused “You fell asleep on the floor douche-blossom, come on get the fuck up.”

John yawned and finally opened his eyes, he smiled up at the night sky they painted “....Weon is gonna love this….”

Karkat smiled too “....Yeah...I think he will…”

Karkat padded out of the room and into the bathroom across the hall. He put his hands underneath the tap, he scrubbed and scratched and night blue swirled down the drain. John lumbered into the bathroom tiredly, he leaned over Karkat and rested his head on Karkat’s shoulders, he wound his arms around Karkat’s middle and hummed contentedly. Karkat turned off the tap and leaned back against John, he patted John’s hands where they were on his belly and sighed. John tucked his face into the crook of Karkat’s shoulder and kissed him, he took one of Karkat’s hands and brought it to his face. Karkat’s wedding ring glinted in the low early morning light that streamed into the bathroom from a small window. John kissed Karkat’s palm and his wedding ring gently.

For a moment they just looked at each other in the mirror, sleepy and content.

“...So…” John started conversationally.

“mmmhhhmm?...”

John rocked them back and forth and Karkat giggled “...I’m going to make pancakes...what do you think?”

Karkat smiled and leaned back on John “....yaaaaaay…” he whispered.

John smiled “...I bet you that Weon is a pancake kinda dude...I better practice making fun-shaped pancakes…”

Karkat rolled his eyes. “John no..”

John quired up his eyebrows “John yes. That kid will have fun-shaped everything. It will be my solemn duty as his father.”

“John no. Our kid is going to fucking eat regular-shaped things.”

John shook his head and kissed Karkat on the cheek “...I’m going to make him smiley-face and mickey mouse pancakes, I’m going to cut his little sandwiches into hearts, star-shaped fried eggs, it will be glorious kit-kat…”

“Oh yea..” Karkat countered “What about fruit. he has to eat fruit sometime…”

John grinned “We’ll buy an orchard and do that weird plastic cover thing where you can put molds over apple or pear blossoms and grow shaped fruit, you know that thing? I’ve seen it on the internet a couple of times…”

“John no…”

“I’ll grow him heart-shaped apples, and star-shaped pears, bananas are already shaped like crescent moons…”

“Thats cheating!”

“No its not!”  
Karkat laughed and pinched John “shouldn’t you be in the fucking kitchen right now making me pancakes? move your sweet ass.”

John giggled and sauntered dramatically out of the room “Oh I see how it is! Shouldn’t you be the one cooking? You ARE the mom in this family!”

“SHUT UP!!”

“Weon agreed with me don’t try denying it!”

Karkat threw a bar of soap and John ran away to the kitchen laughing.

What a fucking dork.

Karkat smiled at himself in the mirror. He had the biggest, dumbest, shit-eating grin on his face and he can’t even bring himself to care. Children are not a requirement to be happy, its not like the cliche Disney-ending that children are always the end-all be-all in a relationship, but this?

This FELT right.

It felt like finding a missing piece they didn’t even know was missing. It was like expanding their hearts into a new type of love.

They were becoming parents…

Holy fucking shit they were becoming parents!

It was wonderful and weird and honestly pretty terrifying if Karkat was honest with himself. It was pretty fucking terrifying because what if he has allergies that the orphanage didn’t know about? Will he be ok in American school? Will he make friends ok? Will he like it here? Will he like it there with them? What will happen when he goes through his rebellious teenager phase?

But it all paled in comparison when he thought of Weon’s little laugh. His tiny little hands and the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. His endless creativity and the overwhelming feeling that this was absolutely right. That this is where he absolutely belonged. and even if they got some things wrong every once in a while, that they were meant to be HIS parents.

Karkat smiled and followed John where he had gone into the kitchen.

John hummed and swayed his hips, a spatula in his hands and he poked something sizzling in a pan. He still had that stupid “Big John’s country steakhouse” apron that Dave had given him all those years ago, even if the little cartoon cowboy on the front was fading, it was still John’s favorite thing to cook in.  
Karkat wound his arms around John’s middle, he leaned up on his tippy toes and kissed the back of John’s neck. John hummed and Karkat nuzzled into his back before he unwound himself from John and went to go make coffee.

The coffee pot brewed and bubbled cheerfully. The morning sun shone happily through the window, setting the white kitchen aglow. Karkat poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. John set down a plate in front of him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

His pancake stared up at him. little banana slices and blueberries made the eyes, a little strawberry for a button nose and a bacon smile.

That fucking goof.

Karkat took a sip of his coffee and nodded down at his pancakes “I would just like for you to know that you’re a fucking goof John.”

“Don’t swear when Weon gets here Kitty, if we’re going to teach him english, we’re going to teach him the good words.”

“I’ll fu-freaking try.”

John smiled at him and put his own plate on the other side of the table. With one hand both they began to eat, their other hands they linked across the table. Karkat picked up the remote, it would be good to see what the weather was going to be today. He clicked on the television and-

“In other news this tuesday morning, the Derspitian civil war broke into chaos last night, Derse troops are advancing across the countryside, luckily American embassies were evacuated just in time, The president has yet to make a comment on the issue or to endorse the Prospitian people-”

The early-morning peace forgotten, John and Karkat’s eyes were wide, staring at the television. Their hands were clenched so hard together that their knuckles were white.

The blonde female reporter cuts out and another segment began “Now in other news, a touching viral video, a puppy that befriends a donkey, susan lets see the clip-”

John turned towards Karkat “....What province is the orphanage in?”

Karkat shook, this wasn’t happening, this wasn’t fucking happening “....its close John...its close to where-”

They dropped their forks and ran into the next room, there were embassies and lawyers and ambassadors to call.

The pancake John made sat on the floor, it’s little bacon smile crushed and torn.

 

 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO ONE IS ALLOWED IN?” Karkat paced back and forth in the lobby of the adoption agency they had gone through.

The skinny little agency worker raised their hands in defense “Its a warzone! contact has been severed for our own protection!”

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT MY PROTECTION!!!” Tears ran down Karkat’s face “I CARE ABOUT HIS PROTECTION! OUR KID IS OVER THERE RIGHT NOW!!!”

The worker shook their head “There's nothing we can do! The embassies were attacked and evacuated! We don’t have any people over there!!”

Karkat turned away angrily, he trudged back to John. “Come on John we’re leaving we’ll find another way.”

John stared out the window of the little lobby, his face blank, his hands impassive by his sides “.....do you think he’s dead?...”

Karkat stared up at John, he shook his shoulders “DON’T YOU DARE FALL APART ON ME JOHN WE’RE GOING TO GET HIM BACK!!”

John whirled to face Karkat and burst into tears “HOW??? EVEN IF HE WAS STILL ALIVE THE GOVERNMENT ISN’T LETTING ANYONE IN!! HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GET TO HIM??”

“I...I…” Karkat’s eyes darted back and forth. “....people have done things without the government-we just have to-”

“AND WHAT??” John screamed “How are we supposed to do that! We aren’t smugglers or criminals or-”

“....or GANGSTERS…” Karkat finished for him.

John looked back at Karkat, his tears stilled for a moment “...you don’t think that…”

“Yeah…” Karkat nodded “...I DO think that…”

“...we’re going to need help John….HE might be the only shot we have…”

 

Derspit was a beautiful land with many natural wonders, but that wasn’t what the crew was interested in. No what the crew was interested in was union busting, racketeering, prostitution, but most importantly- drugs. Heroin and morphine are derived from a plant, a certain type of flower called an opium poppy. Opium poppy trade was rampant in burma, vietnam, thailand and of course, Derspit.

The crew had a wide and expansive smuggling network that criss-crossed through Derspit like ant tunnels that included bribed officials, secret tunnels and all the assorted underhandedness, trickery and guile that went into any good smuggling operation.

Karkat didn’t know this of course. He only knew that the U.S and the Derspit government had been trying to stop them for years to no avail. He also knew that the man he had previously left at age 18 with no intention to ever contact again was a high-ranking member of the midnight crew.

Slick might be the only chance they have left.

 

 

Karkat paced back and forth in their livingroom, his cell phone to his ear as John fidgeted on the couch. He had told himself that he would never speak to Slick again, when he was 18 he went away with John to college and never looked back. He didn’t want to do this, he really didn’t want to do this.

But Weon needed him right now…

 

Thick chains wrapped themselves around a pair of thick ankles. The chain led to a pulley on the ceiling and then was secured to the wall. The man is hung upside-down, his green suit falling around his arms as he struggles and grunts against the chains around his wrists.

Slick watches the man impassively, he takes a long draw of his cigarette and blows the smoke in the man’s face. “...What kind of fucking name is ‘Biscuits’ anyways, I swear the felt codenames get stupider every year….”

Deuce pauses where he had been playing tic-tac-toe with himself using long rifle bullets on the floor. “I kinda like it...It sounds delicious!”  
Droog rolls his eyes and continues to read his newspaper in the corner. “Shut up Deuce.”

They’re in the basement of the Crew mansion. White easily cleaned and bleached tiles line the floors and the walls, in case any strange and incriminating stains should occur. Boxcars sits on a long low couch impatiently as he watches the green-suited man wriggle and thrash. Honestly this one doesn’t seem too smart, but every once in a while the felt manages to surprise them.

Slick’s phone vibrates in his pocket. “excuse me.” he addresses their writhing captive “I gotta take this, so hang around.”

Droog continues to read over his newspaper. “Your jokes get worse the older you get.”

“HA!” Deuce exclaims, knocking over his game of bullet tic-tac-toe. “Its funny because he’s hanging from the ceiling!”

Slick answers the phone “The fuck do you want, I’m in the middle of something?”

“.....dad?.....”

Oh shit.

Karkat?

“.....Karkat?....” he whispers.

Biscuits thrashes harder and yells. Slick back-hands him, a powerful smack that nearly breaks Biscuit’s jaw “I’m on the FUCKING PHONE! do you know how RUDE that is??”

Slick removed his pocket handkerchief and stuffs it in Biscuit’s mouth, effectively gagging him.

“....Dad?...”

“Yeah!” Slick turns back to the phone “I’m here! I’m right here!” God Slick hasn’t heard that voice since he played those director's commentary tracks on all of those DVDs of his kid’s movies that he definitely does not own.

“Look.” Karkat paces back and forth in his living room “I’m not here to forgive you, or to explain my life choices, or to apologize for marrying a man or ANY OF THAT SHIT SO-”

“Wait. wait.” Slick waves his hand in front of the phone “I don’t have a problem with gay people. its fine that you fuck a dude.”

Karkat pauses “...but you always had that thing about being tough…”

Shit this isn’t what he wanted to be talking about. Quick make something up.

“You can be tough and fuck dudes.” Slick shrugs his shoulders awkwardly “I’m sure Boxcars fucks dudes all the time and he’s tough.” Shit what the fuck is he even saying.

Boxcars gapes at Slick, absolutely fucking offended. Deuce, edges away from Boxcars on the couch slightly. Biscuits narrows his eyes at him from where he is still suspended from the ceiling and shakes his head slowly.

“...um…” Slick nervously rubs his neck “....So why DID you call?....”

Karkat shifted nervously on his side of the line “.....because you might be the only one who can help me right now…”

Slick’s breath stuttered in his throat. Oh dear god he needs him. He licks his lips nervously and nods before he remembers he’s on the fucking phone and Karkat can’t see him nodding.

“So what do you need me to do?”

The call takes 45 minutes. Slick whispers in low tones, but mostly he listens. He listens as Karkat tells him about John wanting kids, and the orphanage and Weon, and the bunny, and where the orphanage is and the shut-down embassies. Slick nods and listens, he asks a question every once in a while. Finally he whispers “...bye kid…” and slowly hangs up the phone. He turns to his crewmates, a small smile on his face.

“Well boys…” Slick grins “Contact the guys up in smuggling, I have a grandson to rescue.”

Boxcars crosses his arms “Alright but first of all, who I fuck ain’t NONE A YER BUSINESS.”

Slick stands dumbfounded “Wait what, I made that shit up.”

Droog stifles a small laugh with his hands “...I will make the arrangements right away….However I have to ask where the fuck we’re going to rescue this kid.”

Slick nods “Derspit.”

The rest of the crew’s eye’s widen.

Slick takes a drag of his cigarette “Right in the middle of the fucking warzone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I 150% FUCKING LOVE hearing from you guys! This fanfic finally hit 1,000 hits the other day! yaaaaaay! Comment if you enjoyed or if you want to yell at me because I'm ruining your life, that's cool too!
> 
> I go back to school on the 9th of September so I'll try to get as much done as I can before then because updates will really fucking slow when that happens.
> 
> I'm also writing another ficlet for this AU "The marriage proposal" so keep an eye out for that when it finally comes out.
> 
> I'm always available on tumblr "theladysyk0" same as it fucking is on here, 10/10 would totally follow any of you bros.
> 
> thanks and stay tuned for the next chapter, the one that will tear out your souls with angst and feels If I do my job right.


	18. little grave on a pebble beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter. I'm sorry.
> 
> please visit the links its the music I listened to when writing this. I fixed the issue where they weren't clickable.

A Derse guard sits at the checkpoint between the two warring sides of Derspit. He is a very stout, very ugly and honestly not that smart. He is all around not an important member of the Derse military, or a very important person in general, just about one thing separated this man from the rest of his comrades.

He is very, very, opportunistic.

Which is exactly what brought the midnight crew through his checkpoint.

A short, stout little man with a kind and pleasant round face wheeled a large cart of vegetables down the little dirt path that led to his check-booth. The tiny little shack was dwarfed on both sides by a massive, sprawling, barbed wired fence. The guard adjusted his uniform belt with the gun in it’s holster that he had never fired before, but thought made him look impressive.

He had been told before about the crew’s arrival through his checkpoint, and he thought it was weird that this tiny and pleasant-faced man would be a gangster. If he was at all the kind of person who had thoughts and opinions, he would have wondered a great deal about this man, but he wasn’t, and he only cared if he had the cash he was promised.

The pleasant-faced man wheeled his large cart up to the window of the booth.

“State your business.” the guard grunted.

The round-faced man smiled “Down to the market old friend, tell me, how is your mother?”

The guard smiled, showing uneven discolored teeth. Even if he had been the type of person who cared about his mother and her well-being, his particular mother had been dead for quite some time.

The guard grinned “....She is very ill, some SOUP would do her well…”

The round-faced man nodded and reached down into his cart of vegetables, he pulled out a pumpkin and handed it to the guard “Pumpkins do well for stews…”

The guard pulled the top off the gourd. Inside the pulpy center of the partially hollowed-out pumpkin a large plastic bag of Derspitian currency. “....she will be pleased…”

The guard hugged the pumpkin to his chest and pressed a button. A buzzer sounded and the gate mechanism groaned and screeched before finally the gate slid open for the round-faced man and his cart of vegetables.

Deuce trotted down the little dirt path away from the checkpoint with his cart of vegetables. Wow that had been fun! He rips off his fake mustache and rubs his face. Mustache was a little itchy, but he can’t really complain. After going a decent distance down the dirt path, far enough so that the rich jungle foliage obscured them from any guards that were more invested in their jobs, Deuce pulled the cart over onto the side of the road.

Deuce knocked gently on the wooden side of the cart “Hey guys we’re past the checkpoint now!”

In a great cascade of vegetables, one of Boxcar's very meaty khaki-clad legs kicked the false bottom off the vegetable cart from the inside. Droog flopped over the side of the cart gasping, his hair around his face. 

Slick sat up from inside that cart and lit a cigarette “....well that wasn’t too bad…”

Droog gave him a dirty look “....WE WERE IN THERE FOR 10 HOURS YOU IMBECILE!”

Slick shrugs “wimp.”

Boxcars leaned one massive leg out of the cart, he wiggled, trying to gain balance before quickly hopping out of the cart. His foot stuck on the lip of the cart as he jumped and he accidentally tipped the cart over, making Slick and Droog yelp and fall flat on their faces.

Slick popped up from the ground and brushed off his suit, while Droog stayed on the ground and questioned his life decisions.

Slick took a puff and looked around. “...Where the fuck did Deuce go?...”

“I’m over here!!!” Deuce waved his hand on the other side of the road where he had been giving the vegetables from the upturned cart to various jungle monkeys that quickly surrounded him. He trotted back over to the group, monkeys hanging off his arms and lounging on his shoulders like a chittering furry sweater.

Boxcars picked up Deuce and shook the monkeys off him “OY! GET OFF A IM’!”

Droog still lay on the ground nauseous from the cart ride, Slick kicked him lightly on the side. “Quit slacking you fuck, we have an orphanage to find.”

Droog slowly picked himself off the ground, his hair sweaty and his face still a little green. Droog, Boxcars and Deuce all wore khakis and t-shirts but Slick it seems absolutely refused to dress reasonably for the weather and still wore his suit. Boxcars slathered a little bit of sunscreen on his nose and Droog pulled out a piece of equipment from his pocket. He sighed as he punched in the gps coordinates of the orphanage John and Karkat had given them, what he does for these idiots, honestly…

Slick took out his phone, he fiddled with it for a moment before he brandished the screen to the others. A smiling little boy looked out from the photograph Karkat had sent, a little white bunny in his hands. “This is my kid’s kid and my grandson, find him, get him and then get the fuck out.”

Boxcars clicked his tranquilizer gun into place “Got it boss.”

Slick scowls and batted the gun out of his hands with a harsh swipe “THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU NO TRANQUILIZER GUNS! HAVEN’T ANY OF YOU EVER SPENT ANY TIME WITH CHILDREN??”

Deuce shrugged, wide-eyed.“I imagine they’re just like tiny drunk people, walking around, stumbling into things, crying and peeing their pants.”

“....ok you’re not wrong...but for fucks sake you pathetic lot of incompetent shitlicks just fucking TRY not to scare the kid ok? I want to make a good first impression on my grandson”

Boxcars thought hard for a moment and then smiled in what he thought was a non-threatening way, but really just made him look constipated.

“.....you know what? Its a start….”

Droog turned to the rest of the group “As much as I fucking love spending quality time with you buffoons in some god-forsaken disease-ridden jungle, we should probably GET THE FUCK GOING!”

“Whatever dickbag. lead the fucking way since you have the GPS.”

Deuce clapped his hands and jumped up and down “Its like a buddy road trip movie!!

“No its fucking not.”

“Yes it is!!!”

“We’re not your friends and we’re not on a roadtrip. This is a serious fucking mission!”

“This calls for road trip songs!

“NO SINGING!”

[Deuce sang for the entire three hour hike.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXRUum3yYAWEmnd1_qZtdj0zSQvC1ii6i)

Droog stared at the back of Deuce’s head as he dances ahead of the rest of the group and seriously considered strangling him and leaving him in the jungle. Slick would probably let him at this point.

“AND I WOULD WALK FIVE HUNDRED MILES AND I WOULD WALK FIVE HUNDRED MORE JUST TO BE THE MAN THAT-”

Deuce paused and fell silent as something crunched underneath his sandal. 

Ash.

The air was greasy and foul-smelling, acrid and bitter and he all of a sudden remembered that time he helped Slick set someone on fire. The usual white noise of birds and monkeys chattering through the jungle was completely silent. What little trees were left, stood charred and desolate, standing like sentries over the scorched earth. In the blackened clearing they could see that the destruction stretched along the countryside like a black snake.

Deuce shook his head “no...we...we must have taken a wrong turn…”

Droog’s gps beeped and he looked solemnly to the others “....no….we didn’t…”

Slick stood silently in the clearing. His black suit seemed to fit into the charred scenery, one of the many cigarettes he smoked this morning still hanging from his lip. He looked like he was carved from this destruction, molded from the blackened ground with his ash-smelling suit and his look of despair. 

Black and black.

Ash and ash.

She was right about everything.

“...You’ll DESTROY them the same way you killed my husband...by being a fucking coward…By not being strong enough….”

She was right.

“....its just a matter of time….”

She’s always right.

He looked back to the rest of his team, his face impassive but his eyes hard. “....search….I want to know for sure…”

Deuce held his hands close to his chest and looked across the ravaged landscape. It was too quiet, only the other’s footsteps and the babbling of the brook sounding through the clearing. It felt like walking on hallowed ground, like walking over a grave. He walked to the river and the water was dark, water black as ink left dark stains across the little pebble beach.

Droog knew from his experience as a gangster that while fire was a useful tool for destroying evidence that not all things were lost in a fire. Its just something you had to know in his business. He poked around in the ash, moving debris and charred wood. He found pipes, tiny little flip flops, countless tiny little melted plastic and sooty metal toys. Bricks where the foundation of the building used to be.

Boxcars moved large chunks of singed and scorched wood, sooty lengths of corrugated metal that must have made the roof of the building littered the area. He was quickly becoming covered in soot, his hands and arms blackened. He wiped some sweat from his brow and an inky black trail followed the motion.

Slick stood silently, an inky black part of the scenery.

“...oy...boss…” Boxcars whispered, but the scene was so horribly quiet that they all could hear him as loud as a bullhorn. 

The men slowly gathered around. Boxcars held up the piece of wood he had turned over, covering a small little hole in the ground. They peered into the hole.

“.....jesus….” Whispered Droog.

Deuce covered his mouth with his hands, shaking slightly.

Boxcars looked sadly into the hole. “....can ya….can ya be sure of it….the state he’s in I mean….”

Slick nodded despondently “....yeah….that's him…..”

Slick took off the jacket of his suit in reached into the hole. He swaddled the tiny body in his jacket, two tiny little flip flops peeking out from the other end of the dark fabric. He held his grandchild for the first and last time and the little bundle reminded him of all the times Karkat was little and would asleep, Slick would pick him up and carry him off to his bed.

Slick held the child in his arms and started to carry him away, Droog and Boxcars leaving to solemnly trail after him.

Deuce lingered.

He looked into the tiny little hole.

A little rabbit sat at the bottom of the tiny gap. He reached in and picked up the dirty little rabbit. He stroked a thumb across the rabbit’s singed little face and rubbed a scorched little ear. The dolls black eyes looked bleakly back at him. He hugged the tiny little doll to his chest and kissed the top of his little head.

In the end they decided that best thing would to bury him.

A tiny little grave next to the little steam was made. Slick laid down the tiny little boy like a child being put to bed, tucking his suit jacket around him like a blanket, it was a fatherly instinct.

He was just so cold.

They sat on the river’s edge and buried him slowly with little grey pebbles.

“...does….” Boxcars started “...does any of ya have any words to say?...a prayer maybe...he can’t...he can’t be sent off in silence….”

Droog sat on the pebble shore and hugged his knees. “....I don’t….I haven’t been to church since I was a kid…..”

Slick sat at the little grave in his sooty dress shirt and tie. He held his hat in his hands and shook his head solemnly.

Deuce sat on the beach and looked down at the little singled rabbit in his lap. He petted it’s singed fur and looked out to the black water of the stream. “....I’ll try...he whispered….I’ll try…”

He hugged the little rabbit close to his chest and cleared his throat.

“Hi…” he whispered.

“I’m sorry...I’m so sorry….” he rubbed the tears off his face with a sleeve.

“None of us can really say we’re religious...none of us can even say that we’re good people...and I’m sorry you don’t have your parents here….I know that they miss you a lot...thats a good thing you had...you had people who really really loved you..”

He looked out to the black inky water. “I never met you...but I knew that you were good...they told us that at least… I don’t know if life after death is a thing….but I’m glad...I’m glad that you’re not hurting anymore...wherever you are.....you shouldn’t have had to hurt like that….it was unfair….it was unfair and I’m sorry...you should have grown up...you should have grown up happy with them...you should of but you didn’t and I’m sorry….”

Tear drops fell onto the singed bunny. “We’re not good people….I’m not a good person….I’ve done really bad things….and I’m not sure how much….how much a prayer is worth from me….”

“....but whatever it’s worth…. I hope you don’t hurt...I hope you’re not sad or lonely...I hope you get to see your parents again some day…”

“and some day I hope you’ll get to meet the rest of your family too…”

Deuce put his face to the little rabbit and sobbed. Boxcars put a hand solemnly on his shoulder. Slick rose from the beach and put his hat back on, tears shining in his eyes.

“....thank you Deuce…” he whispered

Droog looked up at him gravely “....what do we do now?....”

Slick looked away “....they should know...they should hear it from me that he’s….”

Droog nodded.

Boxcars moved the biggest rock on the beach as the headstone. Droog took a blackened piece of wood and quietly drew a large cross on the front of the boulder. Deuce hugged the little bunny and bowed his head.

And so they left Weon.[His little grave in the pebbles gazing out to the river.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kCjhm-qLERQ&index=2&list=PLXRUum3yYAWGdSkBsEq-J6mpJe8Ll9BXK)

 

They arrived at the Vantas/Egbert estate, dressed in black suits, this time not as gangsters but as mourners.

They entered solemnly, John sitting nervously on the sofa, Karkat standing next to him, his hand on his shoulder. Karkat looked at his father for the first time in years, his hair was greyer and his face grave.

He knew.

Just from his face he KNEW.

John looked to them, his eyes wide and his face pale from days of worrying.

Deuce clutched the rabbit to his chest. He walked to the little couch and John’s eyes filled with tears. He held out the little singed rabbit to John. John’s hands shook as he accepted the little offering.

John hugged the little sooty rabbit to his chest, curling around it as tears started to stream down his face. He cradled the rabbit like an infant and screamed. His sobs wracking his entire body as he screamed and sobbed.

Karkat hugged John, his hands winding around John’s neck and through his hair as he hugged John to his chest, protecting him as tears ran down his own face.

Slick and the crew left them to mourn in peace. And just like that Slick was out of Karkat’s life again. He wasn’t wanted there, it wasn’t his place to comfort Karkat anymore. He left and silently prayed that Karkat was strong enough for this. He hoped Karkat was strong enough where Slick was weak, where Slick was still weak. He pressed his hand to the glass of the car window and HOPED and PRAYED that Karkat was stronger than him.

 

Friends came and gathered. Karkat numbly let them comfort him. Terezi and Dave solemnly gave them condolences, friend after friend learned about the news and cards and flowers and visits came. It was like a wake without a body. Karkat stood and bravely took the condolences and the flowers and the pitying stares because he had to. He had to be strong because John just crumbled.

Jane came, the little twins each holding one of her hands, both in their sunday best, Calliope solemn in her little pink pigtails, Caliborn bored out of his mind. Karkat put a movie on to keep them occupied as Jane went to talk with John.

Karkat waited and turned up the volume of the movie so the kids wouldn’t hear the broken anguished sobbing, and the heartbroken screams.

Finally Jane came back out, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She took Karkat’s face in her hands and gently kissed his forehead. She hugged him and his arms stayed limp by his sides.

“I’m here for you two…” she looked at him earnestly and sniffed “You were here for me...and I’ll be here for you…”

Karkat nodded despondently “...thank you…”

Jane silently gathered up Calliope and Caliborn and then she was gone.

Karkat silently walked down the long hallway to Weon’s room. John lay curled up on the tiny child-sized mattress. In his arms he protected the tiny singed rabbit. He didn’t speak or acknowledge Karkat when he came in, just continued to stare despairingly at the wall, and the thousands of little stars they had painted for their son. 

Karkat sat down on the bed next to John and rubbed his shoulder. He laid down next to him, John still facing away. He wrapped his arms around his middle and leaned up to kiss the back of his neck gently.

John finally turned to face him, his big blue eyes filled with tears. “....Karkat…”

Karkat nodded as tears filled his own eyes “....I know….”

John hugged Karkat, the little rabbit cradled between them, underneath the painted stars and they sobbed. They held each other and sobbed until finally they fell asleep for the second time under Weon’s night sky.

 

Months afterwards Rose sat next to John on their little couch as Kanaya made tea in the kitchen. Karkat watched them from the other side of the coffee table.

For once Rose wasn’t spouting psychobabble, she wasn’t apologizing for their loss, or telling them how to best deal psychologically with grief. Her eyes were red, and her mascara was only a little bit smudged after being expertly fixed. Her black painted lips pinched from the effort not to burst into tears. She held John’s hand and he leaned against her.

“...You know…” She sniffed and kissed the back of his hand clasped with her’s “....Me and Kanaya were also considering children…”

John looked up at her.

“I mean…” She continued awkwardly “We were hoping you would offer your services, and in return….”

Her mascara ran down her face and this time she didn’t even stop to fix it “In exchange I would gladly offer my services as a surrogate...for your next baby-”

John hugged her to his chest and sobbed and laughed and sobbed. Rose rocked them both back and forth and left black lipstick marks across his cheeks.

Karkat knew exactly what she was doing and he was grateful. He was so grateful because after all these months she had figured out exactly what John needed.

He needed hope.

Months and doctors and clinics went by. Rose sat on their little couch and mended the little singed rabbit. She cleaned its sooty fur and filled in the missing bits with purple knit, her belly already beginning to swell.

Karkat and John stood in Weon’s room. A crib standing where his little bunkbed used to be. They laid the little mended rabbit in the crib and held each other’s hands. Karkat kissed John’s hand that was joined with his and John gave him a watery smile.

They turned off the lights and left the room, the little painted stars glowing with new purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for staying with me through this.
> 
> It really does mean a lot to me that you guys have stayed with me through this wild ride. It means everything that I can make you laugh and cry and feel hopeful. I promise to continue until we've reached the end.
> 
> comment if you enjoyed and thank you for waiting. I'm writing the next chapter as quick as I can.


	19. rotting souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sad and angry stuff in the void. Karkat figured out the ghost summoning thing and he figures out some other things that he probably should never have known.

Karkat sat in the nothingness. Gamzee next to him, rubbing his shoulder as he told him about his son.

“We didn’t even have a body to mourn over Gam...we couldn’t even hold a real funeral….he was just GONE….and we weren’t there to protect him...we were his parents and we weren’t there to protect him…”

Gamzee nodded sympathetically “...I’m sorry little bro...motherfucking shit just ain’t fucking fair...your baby up and died before you could see them grow up….I up and died before I could see my babies grow up..”

Karkat looked sadly over to Gamzee, he took his hand and squeezed. Gamzee smiled shakily and squeezed his hand back.

“....can you teach me that weird-ass ghost trick Gam?...”

“What weird-ass ghost trick best friend?”

“you know…” Karkat flailed his hand around “The thing you do. The weird ghost bullshit thing where you wave your fucking hand and shit appears.”

Gamzee smiled toothily at Karkat and bumped shoulders with him “Yeah motherfucker! What are you all up and trying to make now?”

Karkat picked at his nails and shrugged his shoulders “....there was this rabbit...John gave it to Weon….”

Gamzee’s smile turned sad “Yeah man...thats some shit we can do…”

He took Karkat’s hands in his and closed his eyes “...Alright brother...now i ain’t never seen this miraculous bunny but you up and did… you just gotta remember what you FEEL about it...what it meant... a time in your life where it was up and present, center mother-fucking stage you feel me? Every detail that you can think of…”

Karkat closed his eyes. He remembered John getting excited about adopting and getting the rabbit out of storage. He remembered the orphanage and the way John carried the rabbit into the building...the bench outside of the playroom...He remembered the way Weon’s eyes lit up when John gave it to him…

He felt fur underneath his hands. He looked down and silvery strands of mist coalesced in his hand before spiralling off into the silhouette of a rabbit. It thickened and gained mass, the wisps thickened into fur and there it was. It was as white as the day John got it out of storage.

Karkat smiled down at the little bunny, it’s black eyes glinted cheerfully back at him. He petted the soft fur.

“John was so happy to give this to Weon...And weon was so excited...he loved this bunny as much as John did….”

Karkat petted the little bunny, he hummed happily and stroked down one fluffy ear. Just then the black eyes lost their glint...they turned scratched and sooty. He could smell fire in the air. He felt afraid.

Karkat yelped as the little bunny burst into flames in his hands. He jerked his hands back. The rabbit fell to the ground and burned, its white fur turning black and singed. 

The smell of smoke filled the air and burned his lungs. Karkat coughed but it didn’t help. The air was too hot and it made his eyes prick with tears.

The world turned into a blur of nothing but 

Hotandpainandpain 

burninghelpmehelpmehelpmehelpmehelpmetoohotburningburningburningburning

DADDYDADDYDADDYMOMMOMMOMMOMMOMMOM HELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPDADDYHELPI’MSCAREDDADDYPLEASEHELPMEMOMMOMMOMMOM

Karkat screamed as horrible pain surged through him. Tears ran down his face. He clawed at his face and tried to breathe but he couldn’t it was too hot and-

“KARKAT!!” Gamzee shook him “IT'S A MEMORY BROTHER YOU’RE OK MAN!!”

He pulled Karkat down to his chest and petted his hair “It's a memory man...come on you’re ok...remember how to breathe...come on..remember how it felt to breathe normally come on...think of a time you were up and breathing good...outside..fresh air..safe..you can do it man come on…”

The pain was intense but Karkat focused. He focused on him and John, on the beach together at night...the cool breeze...John holding his hand...safety...

The pain subsided...fading away into nothingness. Karkat gulped down air and grasped Gamzee’s shirt in his hands.

“WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING SHIT WAS THAT GAMZEE!! THAT SURE AS FUCK WASN’T MY MEMORY!!”

Gamzee held him and rocked him back and forth. “...Things can be up and mighty powerful when it comes down to memories and mother-fucking emotions...more than one person can have memories and emotions that fucking attach to the same thing…”

Karkat wiped the tears from his eyes and continued to breathe deeply, he shook with the memory of that pain….the horrible pain.

“So…” he sniffed “...Someone else who knew the rabbit-”

He looked down to the little rabbit, still smoking nearby. Just like it was the day the man that came with his father gave it back to them.

Oh god no.

More tears rolled down Karkat’s face. 

Weon.

 

“you mean…” Karkat picked up the rabbit “THAT happened to my kid...THAT HAPPENED TO MY KID????!!!”

“Little bro-” Gamzee put a hand to Karkat’s shoulder.

“NO!” Karkat threw off his hand. “I know that THEY’RE going to be the next one that I meet Gam...I just know it..”

Gamzee’s eyebrows furrowed “Motherfucking who man?”

Karkat turned towards Gamzee, holding out the little burned bunny in his shaking hands “THE FUCKING ROTTEN PIECE OF SHIT THAT DID THIS TO MY BABY!!”

Gamzee shook his head “This fuckery ain’t about revenge man, its about healing.”

“WELL MAYBE I WOULD HEAL BETTER AFTER I GOT SOME REVENGE! HUH? DID THE UNIVERSE EVER CONSIDER THAT??!!”

Gamzee huffed and ran a hand through his hair “...look man...its kinda like a volcano…”

Karkat glared at him unimpressed “...A VOLCANO?....”

Gamzee nodded earnestly “Yeah man. thats exactly what its like! Volcanoes are big bad things that up and kill a lot of people right? But do you think them pompeii fuckers that up and passed motherfucking went and talked to flaming rocks when they up and got here? Nah son they up and motherfucking didn’t.”

Karkat rolled his eyes “Is there a point in this?”

Gamzee flailed his arms around “War! Disease! Shipwrecks! Tornadoes! Its gotta be more personal than that! You motherfucking can’t up and talk out your beef with fire!”

“I don’t think you understand.” Karkat seethed “SOMEONE did this to my baby! How can it get MORE PERSONAL than that??!!”

Gamzee threw up his arms “SO UP AND TELL ME WHO YOU WANNA TALK TO!”

Karkat threw up his own arms “A SOLDIER! A GENERAL! SOMEONE!!”

Gamzee grasped Karkat’s shoulder’s “A soldier motherfucking follows orders. They’re a motherfucking tool.”

Karkat shrugs “So? There's a man behind every gun. I’ll talk to him!”

Gamzee shakes his head “Soldier follows the captain, the captain follows the next guy, the next guy follows the next guy, all the way up to the fuckers in mother-fucking charge.”

“SO I’LL TALK TO THEM!!!”

Gamzee shook his head “That's where them volcanoes come in man. Some people are like volcanoes, fucking spewing hatred and violence wherever they go. Mother-fucking natural disasters. Do you think Hitler is up here getting his motherfucking forgiveness on with people? Nah son that fucking bitch is rotting FUCKING ROTTING. There are people who die when they’re still alive. Motherfucking filling with hatred to the point where there is nothing nobody can do, rotting and rotting underneath all that living flesh until THERE IS NO GODDAMN SOUL LEFT TO FUCKING FORGIVE. It happens to the dead too man...filling up with more and more hatred and not letting none of it go..it fucking rots them...until they got nothing left...This place is about healing, second chances...If you don’t got no soul, you ain’t got no second chance...you fucking go to the OTHER place. Do not pass go. No take backs.”

“I’m not saying that people in war can’t commit horrible acts, because that's all war fucking is, horrible act after horrible act...but there's got to be a person and a CHOICE, someone really going up and beyond, and soldiers do that don’t get me wrong, but you don’t know if there was either of them things…And people who are beyond repair..them rotted ones?...they AIN’T up here...”

Karkat shook his head “NO. There HAS to be SOMEONE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS.” 

He hugged the little rabbit to his chest “And if we weren’t both already dead I would fucking kill him...but hey...he probably remembers pain...I wonder what i could do to him here...what I could MAKE him remember.”

Gamzee shook his head “Karkat no! Man I know you’re still up and fucking hurting but this just isn’t the fucking answer!”

Karkat felt it in his gut. It was now. He smiled sarcastically at Gamzee as he started to fade “Well its FUCKING TOO LATE NOW ISN’T IT?”

“NO BROTHER DON’T DO THIS!” Gamzee tried to grab Karkat futilely as he started to wisp away “PLEASE MAN DON’T DO NOTHING STUPID!!”

The last thing Gamzee heard was the echo of Karkat’s humorless laugh as his best friend faded and once again he was left alone in the void.

“Please…” Gamzee whispered “I just fucking told you people who got too much hate motherfucking rot away...they don’t fucking get no chances…don’t fill yourself… don’t rot out...”

Gamzee put both of his hands to his mouth.

“.....please come back….”


	20. River baptism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn how Weon died and Karkat has to save himself. Down by the river the children know the answer.

The world was nothing but flame. The air was hot and seared his lungs. Thick with bitter disgusting smelling smoke. Before him the orphanage was aglow in a terrifying inferno. The walls blazed and crackled and burned. Silent screaming. Lives and bodies in ruin. Abominable fate and gruesome fortune. Painful radiating heat.

IT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE THIS WAY.

HE WAS SUPPOSED TO LIVE.

THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE A FAMILY.

Rage had always come easily to Karkat Vantas, it was just a part of his personality at this point. But anyone who has ever lost someone, BECAUSE OF SOMEONE ELSE, knows what rage is. True all-encompassing rage. The kind of rage that could burn unchecked for decades, millennia even. Even the kindest, calmest, sweetest of people can feel this kind of rage.

Mitzy Stevens age nine watched the breathing mask being taken off her grandmother in the hospital, her mother clung to her and sobbed as the impossibly old woman gasped like a fish. She clenched her tiny fists and dreamed of strangling the nurse.

Laura Fitzgerald, age 84 came back to her house on halloween night to find her little black cat dead on her porch. She cradled the innocent creature’s head, her little wrinkled hands shook and she thought about taking down her husband’s hunting rifle and gunning down the bratty neighbor boy the same way he hurt her cat.

Rage is a horrible thing, more addictive than any drug and more dangerous. It feels righteous, how dare they? That you have the absolute RIGHT to be angry, for your rage and hatred. Some people however, dedicate their lives to this, they can suffer indignities that can burn in their breasts for a lifetime. They hold onto it, and they rage, and they suffer until just like a fire, they’re consumed.

Deep in the bowels of the afterlife. A squirrely, skinny little man bit his nails and BLAMED. He blamed the police, he blamed his mother, he blamed his drug dealer, he blamed the man he shot in a convenience store parking lot, it was HIS fault he went and got high afterwards with the money from his wallet and overdosed. He sat and chewed his nails, rocking back and forth and seething with rage and he began to rot.

It starts the way a peach is bruised, a tiny little bit, that honestly doesn’t stop the peach as a whole from being good, some people can get over. They can heal and they can let go of the rage. Other people hold onto their rage until just like the peach, they rot away. There's nothing really to do with rotten peaches and it seems the universe holds the same ideals.

Silhouetted against the flare of the burning orphanage a single soldier stood, he faced away from Karkat, his face shadowed. Karkat scowled. This was it. He started to turn and-

It was like rain.

The air cooled, the smoke whirled away, and above him palm trees appeared, canopying him and dappling him with their shade from the bright sun above. Exotic birds trilled happily through the leaves and he could hear the happy screams of children filling the air. His body was middle-aged, the same one he was in when he went to the orphanage with John in the first place.

Karkat turned to the noise and there-. Hundreds of children gathered by the river, happily splashing and squealing in the water. They giggled and jumped in the river, their black hair wild around their wet smiling faces. The orphanage stood cheerful and intact, watching silently over the children like a fat mother hen as they played.

Karkat stumbled into the scene, dazed, none of these children could possibly be Weon’s murderer there had to be some-

Just then a tiny little boy looked up from where he had been swimming, his face split into a huge grin and he bounded out of the water. He grabbed a little white bunny that had been lounging on the side of the river on a boulder and took off running. He went straight for Karkat and wrapped his tiny little arms around his legs.

“MOM!” he squealed.

He looked up at Karkat and-

Weon.

Tears filled Karkat’s eyes “...Weon?….”

Weon smiled up at him “I knew you would come back! I knew!!!”

Karkat smiled and sobbed and crumpled to his knees, clutching Weon to his chest. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! we should have been there! We didn’t save you we-”

Weon patted his back with one minescule hand “It ok. It wasn’t your fault. I never mad at you. I wasn’t mad at anyone. I came right here when I died.”

Karkat looked around them, at the cheery little river and all the happy children. “Where exactly...is ‘here’ Weon?”

Weon grinned and put his tiny little hands on his hips “Final place. You die. Get peace. Go to the best place you know! For us it was here!”

He put his little shoulders back and puffed out his tiny chest with pride “And I the mayor!”

One little girl called out from where she was sitting on the rocks by the river “No you’re not!”

Weon’s tiny little face pinched with rage “YES I AM NARI! I WAS HERE FIRST SO I’M THE MAYOR THAT'S THE RULE!”

“Thats a dumb rule!”

“You’re a dumb!”

“No you!”

Karkat put his hand gently on Weon’s shoulder “Hey! Play nice!”

Weon nodded solemnly before his face split into a grin again “Oh! There people I want you meet!”

He pulled Karkat along by his hand to the River’s edge, onto the little grey pebble beach “Everyone! This is my mom!”

One little boy raised his hand. Weon pointed to them “Yes you, question?”

The little boy lowered his hand and very bluntly said “Your mom is a man!”

Weon huffed “First of all, that isn’t even a question! Second of all, Shut up Gi.”

Gi pouted.

Karkat pulled Weon gently away from the water, far enough so that the other kids couldn’t hear them talk. Weon looked confused but went anyways.

“Mom what wrong?”

Karkat kneeled in front of him and took both his shoulders in his hands “Weon. I know that this is tough, but I want to know who killed you.”

Weon shrugged and looked eagerly back at the river “Why?”

Karkat took a deep breath and tried not to let his rage show. “...because I want to talk to them.”

Weon’s eyebrows furrowed “...you...mad at them?....”

Karkat took another deep breath and his hands tightened on Weon’s shoulders “YES.”

Weon’s tiny little face scrunched up and tears ran down his face “I sorry! I sorry!”

Karkat shook his head and petted Weon’s hair “No. no. no. There's nothing for you to be sorry about, please don’t cry.”

Karkat hugged Weon to him as he sniffled and cried “Yes you mad! I sorry!”

He looked at Karkat, tears brimming in his big brown eyes “I did it! You mad at me! I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to! It was an accident!”

Karkat swallowed hard and searched Weon’s face, trying to tell if he was lying. “please…” he breathed heavily “....tell me what happened…”

Weon looked up at him, his eyes wet and shiny with unshed tears, he guiltily looked away and gingerly took Karkat’s hand.

In the memory Weon sat in his room he shared with some of the other children. It was dusk outside and the other children lazily played with toys or read little picture books on their bunks. Weon was on a bottom bunk, the child in the bunk above him was jumping up and down on his mattress, making the space above Weon stretch up and down. Weon gently petted the little bunny that John had given him and made it hop across his pillow.

Just then a little girl burst into the room, her cheek was scratched and she huffed and gasped from running, her little green dress was torn and she shook.

“Bora!” Some of the little girls stopped what they were doing and went to her aid, dabbing the blood with the hems of their skirts and smoothing back her hair.

“Soldiers!” little Bora yelped, she tried to gain back her breath as tears ran down her face “I was at the market with Qi! Soldiers from the north came! They fired big guns into the sky and told us all to get on our knees! I was crying and one of them hit me with their gun! Qi pushed them and told me to run away! They took her away in a van I don’t know what to do!”

Instantly the room filled with little frightened screams.

“They took away Qi?!!!”

“Soldiers??!!”

“What are we going to do??”

“We’re down the path from the village they’ll come here soon!”

“I don’t want to die!”

“I want Qi!!!”

Weon jumped off his bunk and stomped his little foot “STOP IT!! NONE OF YOU HELPING ANYTHING!!!”

One little boy crossed his arms and frowned at him “Oh yeah??? Like you know what to do!!”

The room was silent as Weon put his hand to his chin in thought. “....the big city...like day Qi took us to movies...We follow the river down…”

One of the little girls that had been tending to Bora gasped “We can stay off the path, away from the soldiers!”

Weon nodded.

One of the older kids, four years older than Weon jumped off from her bunk. “Wear the darkest clothes you have, the biggest ones will carry the toddlers, take as much food from the kitchen as you can carry and still be able to run, hurry! We don’t have much time!”

The orphanage was a flurry of tiny little kids tying each other’s waistbands on dark pants, stuffing fruit into backpacks and hushing each other when they burst into tears.

“Leave the toys they’ll just take up room!”

“Ki, you can’t wear pink they’ll see that!”

“Stop crying Jung, it will be ok!”

“Don’t bring dry noodles idiot! How are we supposed to cook noodles in the forest?”

 

Weon rushed around and helped stuff things into backpacks and little cloth bundles. One of the older girls had a toddler strapped to her back using a thick scarf. The little girls held each other’s hands. He made sure everyone was packed and ready to go, bursting into each bedroom and telling all the children what was going on and what they should do.

Lights started to come down the path. The thick crunching sound of heavy trucks on the dirt road. Men yelling instructions to other men and the smell of burning and gasoline.

“Come on!” Weon led them through the back door and towards the river. “Cross into bamboo on other side!! Quickly!”

The frightened children ran into the night, their little muddy shoes slipping on the river rocks as they carried their cloth packs over their heads as they waded through the river. Weon followed, he helped pull other children up onto the rocks and made sure that they all left the orphanage.

Wait.

The bunny.

He left his bunny on his bed!

“Weon come on! We have to go!” Hoon tried to pull him by his wrists.

“My bunny!” Weon gasped and struggled against Hoon’s hold.

“Leave it!”

“I’ll be back! Go!!”

He unhooked Hoon’s hand and scrambled away despite Hoon’s and the other children’s hushed protests. He scurried up the back steps of the house just as soldiers with flashlights came into the clearing by the orphanage. Their trucks growled through as soldiers yelled to each other.

“Building up ahead!”

“Check inside!”

“I checked the last one!”

“Just fucking do it!”

Weon ran through the hall and into his bedroom just before a soldier came in through the front door. Weon huffed behind the door of the bedroom, he could hear the squeak of the soldier’s rubber boots on the bamboo floor of the hallway. He snatched his bunny off the bed and hugged it to his chest. He looked around the room panicked, trying to find a place to hide.

There! The closet! He ducked into the closet and into the messy pile of clothes at the bottom of it. His heart was pounding in his ears. He pressed his hands to his mouth to try and stifle his ragged breathing.

The rubber squeaking footsteps of the soldier continued down the hallway. Through the tiny gap in the closet door Weon could see thick rubber boots and the start of his uniform.

“....hello?...” The soldier called out. “Is anyone in there?....”

Weon tried to stay as still as possible. He held his breath and squeezed his rabbit tighter.  
A second pair of boots angrily trudged down the hall “Well? Report!”

“...yeah...as you can see sir, nobody home.”

“Whatever...its just as well.” the officer turned to trudge away and stepped on a toy in the hallway. 

He kicked the toy away “Disgusting capitalist trash. When the new regime saves the southerners we’ll do away with shit like this.”

The other soldier leans down to pick up the toy. Weon gasps and huddles farther into the clothes. He only sees black hair and a tanned arm before the soldier straightens again.

“Oh hey I had one of these as a kid…”

“Shut up and leave it to burn with the rest of it. We have orders. Burn anything that we can’t take and can be used by the other side, SHELTER can be used by the Southerners!”

Angry boots officer trudges away on his black boots and leaves Squeaky boots soldier.

“Whatever. You’re the boss.”

Weon can hear the pop of a cap being taken off a container. Gross smelling liquid splashes around Squeaky boot soldier’s feet. He walks back down the hall and the sound of splashing follows him. Weon can hear him go out the front door and start to circle around the side.

Weon is still frozen in fear. He can’t run out, the soldiers are right there.

A match is struck and the hallway bursts into flames. Weon yelped, quickly closing to door of the closet and huddling in on himself, tucking his rabbit to his chest. He didn’t know anything about fires, or why this was the absolutely wrong thing to do.

It got hotter and hotter. He coughed. His eyes stung with smoke. He was afraid. He cried and he cried, his little face against his rabbit.

“Mom, Dad please…..”

He felt lightheaded he kept coughing and wheezing in hot painful breaths. The wood of the closet door began to creak and splinter. He screamed as the door gave way and fire rushed into the space. He screamed and he screamed and the wood gave way, burying him in cinders.

Mercifully...The memory ended.

Karkat was in tears as the memory faded. Weon held Karkat’s hand and looked guiltily away.

“That it…” he whispered “...please don’t be mad…”

Karkat stooped down to his knees and hugged Weon “I’m not mad, I promise I’m not mad, I’m just so sorry...I’m so Sorry Weon...I’m so sorry…”

Karkat sniffed and underneath his hands Weon’s skin started to crack and singe. He could smell burning meat, he jerked away and-

He was burnt. He was so burnt. His tiny little face was marred with cracking and blistering skin. He looked up with his wide little doe eyes and Karkat could see how his hair charred and fell from his scalp. Karkat sobbed and Weon took his hand, could feel how the tiny little hand cracked and blistered under his fingers.

Without a word, the little charred Weon led him back towards the river. He sat Karkat down authoritatively, just like he did all those years ago in the pantry.

Weon picked up a grey stone in one cracked and blistered hand, just big enough to fit in Karkat’s palm. The skin of his tiny little hand split with the movement.

“Wash.” He ordered. His lips split and bloodied.

Karkat sniffled and looked wide-eyed at Weon. He rubbed the stone absentmindedly between his fingers, it was scratchy. Weon lifted his little ravaged arm and Karkat took it gingerly. He rubbed gently, the skin must be so sensitive why-

A little piece of burned skin came off, healthy soft skin peeked out from underneath. Weon sighed. Karkat washed off the stone in the water and continued, cautiously scrubbing and constantly looking to him for any sign of pain.

He worked across Weon’s back, bits of burned blackened skin falling off and swirling away in the stream. His little neck, his arms. Weon apparently had ticklish armpits and feet and Karkat had to smile as he giggled and writhed. Behind his ears and every spot on his hands and in between his fingers and toes. Weon leaned into him as he massaged across his scalp, thick healthy black hair immediately coming back as he worked the stone across his skin. finally across his tiny face, his cheekbones, his bloodied lips, the unimaginably fragile skin of his eyelid.

When he was done, Weon wrapped his arms around his neck, leaned up and gave him a kiss on the forehead. He looked into Karkat’s eyes.

“Its ok.” He promised “I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t sad. I didn’t have anyone to yell at and forgive when I died because I no blamed you...I no blamed anyone...I came right here…”

He looked around the river and pointed to a rock on the far side of the pebble beach “Grandpa and the nice men buried me there...I first to come here...I missed you… and dad...and my friends...but I didn’t hurt anymore...I wasn’t afraid anymore…”

He smiled “My friends went away, escaped and got old…” 

Tears welled up in his eyes and he turned to Karkat “I did that...me...I saved them so they could get old…”

He nodded as tears rolled down his face “..I glad I did that...I glad….”

Karkat wiped the tears from his and Weon’s eyes with a sleeve of his sweater. Weon sniffed and continued. “Myung came next because he was stupid on a motorcycle in his twenties…”

One of the little boys piped in “It was worth it!”

“Shut up Myung. Anyways...they get old....they die…. they come back here to be with us again...This is the final spot for so many of us...We were so happy here that in the end we chose this place…”

Just then, the bamboo shoots on the other side of the river began to rustle. The kids murmured excitedly “Who do you think is coming home? Who do you think-”

Weon pulled Karkat’s sleeve excitedly and jumped up and down “New friend! New friend!”

A little asian girl held the hand of a very old asian woman. The little girl led the old woman through the bamboo. The old woman stepped out, shielding her eyes from the sun reflected in the river. The little kids gasped.

“IT’S MIN!!!!”

The old woman looked out into the sea of smiling faces below her. She put her little wrinkled hands to her chest and smiled, tears running down her face. The little girl that accompanied her jumped into the river, she motioned back to the old woman.

“Its ok Min! Jump in!”

The old woman grinned, she gathered up her skirts and jumped into the river, her little wrinkled legs kicking. The splash hit the rocks on the other side of the river and the kids all laughed and cheered.

The old woman resurfaced, her hair black, her wrinkles gone. Eight years old again she laughed and splashed in a dress that was now much too large for her, dragging sopping wet behind her. The children laughed and gathered around her, giggling and splashing and hugging her as her sopping wet hair clung to her happy face.

“We missed you Min! We’re so glad you’re back Min! You were so old Min! You must have lived to be a million!”

Weon laughed and clapped his little hands “See?” he grinned “...They come back to us…”

Karkat laughed and hugged him close, they watched the former old woman laugh and play with all of her old friends.

“...You know…” Karkat kissed the top of Weon’s head. “...I have some people I would like for you to meet…”

Weon looked curiously up “..Who?...”

Karkat smiled down at him “Aunties....and uncles...and cousins and friends and lots of grandpas...I bet you didn’t know you had a little sister did you?”

Weon grinned and wiggled up and down in Karkat’s grasp “A sister!! A little sister!? I’m a big brother???!!!”

He looked up at Karkat, his eyes wide “I a big brother...I IN CHARGE!”

Karkat giggled and rolled his eyes “Well she’s in her forties now so…”

Weon huffed and raised his eyebrows condescendingly “Don’t care. I still the big brother. I still in charge.”

Karkat laughed and hugged Weon closer “Ok fine. When she gets up here. You’re in charge.”

Weon pumped his little fists and turned towards the other children “YES!! HEAR THAT!!?? I HAVE LITTLE SISTER!! AND I IN CHARGE!!”

“Nuh uh!!” one of the little girls jeered “When she gets here she’ll be in charge!!”

“Shut up Yon!!”

Karkat giggled and weon smiled at him. He stood up and took Karkat’s hand.

“Across the river mom…” he whispered “You have someone else to see…”

Karkat stepped into the river, the water lapping at his ankles and then his calves as he walked.

“...Where are we going Weon?..”

Weon continued to walk. He didn’t seem to sink or get lower in the water than his calves, even as the water swallowed Karkat’s middle and started to climb up his chest.

“You…heal like you did me...and...” Weon smiled “Going where you need go...he made his final place next to mine so he could visit…”

Karkat’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything Weon put his tiny little hands on his shoulders and pushed him under the water. Karkat flailed for a moment, the cool water surrounding him. He remembered being baptized as a kid, the preacher splashing him with cold water. He remembered what they said about new life.

It felt like light. It felt like hope as he let the river wash his soul.

He surfaced from the river, sopping wet, but the middle-aged body he had inhabited here had faded to the skinny little pipsqueak of a teenager he had been again.

Weon smiled and helped him up the side of the river. Through the bamboo he could hear strangely familiar music…

Weon pushed him gently “Go on…” He smiled “....He’s waiting….”

Karkat smiled and stooped down one last time to hug Weon. “...I love you…”

Weon smiled and hugged him back, tucking his little head in Karkat’s neck “...I love you too mom…”

Karkat reluctantly let him go. Weon smiled and Karkat turned to enter the bamboo forest.

Weon and the little kids in the river waved and cheered as he left “Goodbye Mr Weon’s mom!! Good luck!!!”

Karkat smiled. He took a deep breath and walked into the forest towards the music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this was a doozy to write and it was the chapter that mostly resembled the book I was inspired by. Please tell me what you think, as always I will try to answer and questions as best as I can.
> 
> We're only 2 kudos away from 100!! yeah!! woo!
> 
> Next time we'll see where the music is coming from.


	21. Alzheimers

Karkat trudged into his kitchen, the little rubber stopper at the end of his cane squeaking against the floor.

“John come on! We’re going to be late!”

Karkat adjusted clothes and ran a hand through his hair. Stupid family gathering that require you to look decent. The fridge door closed and there John stood, his blue eyes bright behind his glasses and his grey hair sticking up in all directions. He had a sandwich in his mouth and was still wearing his pajamas.

John chewed through a bite of sandwich and then spoke “...Why?...Are we going somewhere?”

Karkat tapped his cane against the calendar in the fridge “December 1st idiot.”

When that elicited no response Karkat growled “Your little sister’s birthday??? Jade??? We go to this stupid party every year!”

John’s eyes widened “JADE’S BIRTHDAY!”

Karkat rolled his eyes “Yeah dumbass. You’ve been her brother for more than 80 years you should know by now. So go and put on that blue shirt you look cute in and lets go. Hopefully we won’t be too late.”

John threw his sandwich into the trash and hurried down the hallway to their bedroom.

“.....Which shirt did you want me to wear?...”

Karkat rolled his eyes and looked to his watch annoyed “The BLUE one! God!”

 

John was smiling in the early morning light, his cheek already dusted with flour as he got out the ingredients to make pancakes. Karkat sat nearby at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. 

“Ok!” John grinned “Double the pancakes! I can’t believe that Rose and Kanaya are going to come have breakfast with us! Whens the last time they did that?!”

Karkat rolled his eyes “They had breakfast with us last month, it's not that special.”

John’s eyebrows furrowed “...No...Wait when did that happen?”

Karkat took a gulp of coffee “Remember we had those mid-day tickets to see momma mia, they wanted to get there early so we all had breakfast together. You tried to make a Rose-shaped pancake for Rose and she made fun of you when it came out looking like brains.”

John ran a hand through his hair and frowned “...Are you sure you didn’t go with someone else? Like Dave? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Momma mia...”

Karkat gave John a hard look over his newspaper “You’ve never seen momma mia before, yeah right….. I sat right next to you and you BAWLED at the wedding scene.”

John rolled his eyes “Ok now you’re just making shit up. I don’t cry at musicals, I sit there and judge them like a true man.”

“Bawled like a BABY….”

“Shut up.”

John hesitated as he reached for a measuring cup “...ok...ok so with four people...double the recipe amounts...double of ¾ is….double of ¾ is…..”

Karkat watched as John’s eyebrows furrowed, he pursed his lips and looked hard at the measuring cups. “...double of ¾……”

Karkat watched the tense lines of his body, the way he stared at the measuring bowl as the answer just didn’t come.

“...Double of ¾ is 1 and a ½ John……”

John jumped slightly, stirred from his revelry. “Oh! Thats right! 1 and a ½! thanks Kitty...That was weird!”

John went back to happily making pancakes, humming in his nearly completely faded “John’s country steakhouse” apron. Karkat looked at him warily and drank his coffee.”

 

“Hey Kitty!” John trudged down the stairs to where Karkat had been in their den tapping out an idea for a screenplay.

“Hmmm?...” Karkat hummed noncommittally, in the middle of writing a hot love scene.

John smiled “We should go to that little mexican restaurant! Jose’s!”

Karkat looked up at John questioningly “...Why?”

John smiled “Because it’s Taco tuesday of course! Half price tacos! Who doesn’t like that?”

Karkat studied John, his eyebrows furrowed. “....its friday…”

John’s eyes widened, he bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair “...uh...yeah...whoops…”

John sheepishly left the room, Karkat followed him with his eyes. He closed his old and beaten laptop and rubbed his eyes.

Jose’s restaurant has been closed for years…

 

Karkat bolted awake to the blaring sound of the fire alarm. He tossed the blankets off of him.

“John??!!” He groped the other side of the bed frantically.

No John.

He looked to the alarm clock next to their bed. 4:00 am. He wiggled out of bed and hurriedly wrapped his bathrobe around his waist, he put on his bunny slippers and rushed down stairs towards the kitchen.

The kitchen was full of black smoke. Karkat put the hem of his robe to his mouth and coughed. A frying pan sat on the stove, the temperature set way too high and a charred black lump in the center of the pan. Lumpy and discolored pancake batter sat next to it in a bowl. The countertops were littered with egg shells and spilled flour and all kinds of things that don’t belong in pancakes like fish-sauce and brandy.

John stood in the center of the mess, cradling one of his hands and tears running down his face.

Karkat rushed over to him “John! What happened! Are you ok?”

John looked at him and burst out into sobs. “..I don’t...I was trying to...I don’t know why it…”

“Shhh…” Karkat rubbed his arm consolingly “...Let me look at your hand…”

A long burn ran across John’s palm. Karkat quietly turned off the burners on the stove. He opened the freezer and took out a bag of frozen peas, gingerly laying them in John’s palm over the burn. 

He held John and rocked them both back and forth, John gripping the frozen peas and crying softly. Karkat rubbed his back and kissed him on the cheek.

“...Hey…” He whispered. “How about I make breakfast for you today...you’re obviously pretty tired...would you like that?”

John sniffed and nodded. Karkat sat him down at the kitchen table. Opened a window to air out the smoke, and started to clean the mess.

After breakfast, John went right back to sleep again. Karkat eyed him sleeping sprawled out on the couch as he talked on the phone.

“It was so fucking weird Rose...He’s made pancakes a million times before...He’s made us pancakes almost every morning we’ve lived together...He could made pancakes in his fucking sleep...but there he was...He was so confused and scared…”

Rose listened intently on the other end of the line. “...Is this the first time something like this has happened?...”

“Yes!” Karkat immediately responded defensively. “....No...Well it’s never been this dramatic before….there have been little things…”

“...Little things?...’ Rose Queried.

“Well…He forgot Jade’s birthday...and the last time he signed a card to you he spelled your name with a ‘z’ instead of an ‘s’.... He’ll forget things in really weird places...I found a box of cereal on the top of our toilet and there was a fork in the linen closet…”

Rose was silent for a long moment on the other end of the line “...Karkat I want you to take John in for mental screening…”

“No!” Karkat shouted and then remembered John was still sleeping nearby “..no...look Rose...he’s just...he’s just had a rough couple of months ok?...He’ll get better…”

“Karkat…” Rose sounded exasperated “...Perhaps in recent months John’s forgetfulness has been harmless and intermittent...but this last time...you said he burned himself...quite badly...what if he hurts himself again?”

Karkat rubbed his eyes and looked guiltily over to where John slept, hand wrapped around an ice-pack.

“...I’ll keep an eye on him ok?...”

“Karkat you should really-”

Karkat hung up the phone. He looked over at John, face pressed into a sofa cushion. 

He’ll keep John safe. He’ll keep John safe and John will get better.

 

 

He didn’t get better.

 

For months after that Karkat trailed after John like a nervous mother. It didn’t help that despite John’s mental failings, he was quite a bit faster than Karkat who trudged after John on his short legs and with his cane. He picked up the things John picked up and dropped absentmindedly. He returned the things that John spirited away and forgot in bizarre places, he took the mail out of the blender and reached with the handle of his cane to retrieve a can of honey baked beans from under their bed.

After the pancake incident, Karkat did all the cooking, all of it. There was a maid that came every wednesday so at least he didn’t have to worry about that, but one time she surprised John and he got very upset when he didn’t remember who she was. It took half an hour to convince John that no, she wasn’t a thief or a burglar (Why would a burglar wear a “happy maids ™” uniform when they broke in?).

Karkat was in the middle of cooking dinner when John wandered into the kitchen. Karkat wasn’t nearly as good a cook as John used to be, so he was having a hard time of it, but what he makes was decent and edible and John is always so touched whenever Karkat cooks for him.

Karkat was trimming the fat off of raw chicken breasts when John came in.

John looked over Karkat’s shoulder curiously “...What are you making?...”

Karkat grunted and wiped his brow. “I’m making chicken parmesan.”

“Oh..” John nodded his head. “....do I...Like...Chicken parmesan?...”

Karkat smiled sadly and nodded “..yeah...you like chicken parm…”

John smiled. He always seemed to defer to Karkat when his own memory failed, trusting him completely.

Shit where the fuck are the breadcrumbs?

Karkat turned away from where he had been slicing chicken to rummage through the pantry. Shit fuck on a motherfucking jesus-fucking cracker, where the fuck are the breadcrumbs? He found them eventually, behind a box of lasagna noodles. He turned back to the stove and-

“JOHN NO!” Karkat yelled at John but it was too late.

He had already swallowed a piece of raw chicken.

 

He vomited for the rest of the afternoon. Karkat ran his fingers through John’s hair and rubbed his shoulders as John heaved into the toilet.

John gasped and shuddered, tears pricking at his eyes and his nose runny. He smelled like bile and looked miserable. “...I thought you said...I liked Chicken Parmesan…”

Karkat ran his hands through John’s tousled grey hair and wiped his face with a towel. “...Yeah well…” he said gently “....Its gotta be cooked first…”

When John was finished retching and heaving he was so exhausted. Karkat set him up on the couch in their den. He put a blanket over him, his face still pale from exhaustion and food poisoning. Karkat quietly left the room to let him sleep.

On the other side of the wall Karkat burst into tears. He held a hand to his mouth trying to stifle his sobs, he didn’t want to wake John up.

Oh God.

He wasn’t getting better.

We’s getting WORSE.

Karkat ran a hand through his hair and breathed deeply, trying to calm himself down.

Fuck it.

Its time to call Rose.

 

Rose Lalonde in her heyday was one of, if not THE most respected psychologist in the industry. While she was long retired from the drudgery of psychological practice or teaching, she still kept up on all the relevant news of the industry and who was the top of their field, many of whom were her former students. Thats how she got the very best to look at John and judge his condition.

And that's also how they knew that their findings were sound.

The doctors gave John worksheets to fill out. Simple things, like the kind of things you would give to children. Name this animal, how old are you, which out of these animals have feathers, simple math. John fretted over each one, furiously scribbling, his eyebrows furrowed, writing and crossing out answers.

He was near tears at the end of it. “..I...Kitty...I used to give these kinds of worksheets to my students back when I taught...why….why can’t I…”

Karkat looked over the sheets, the scrawled and wildly incorrect answers. In the “what is this animal” worksheet he wrote “Gerald” instead of “giraffe”. The doctors looked over the sheets and asked John their own questions, silently writing down his answers and when he seemed to get confused or agitated.

Alzheimer’s disease….

The very best doctors were called in and the very best pills and treatments were prescribed. Casey came and stayed with them for a month, helping set up the new regiment and cooking meals. It was so nice having her around, it made Karkat feel like things were a little more normal, but eventually he knew she would have to leave again, she had her own life, a busy career…

One day, Casey was cooking, her long blonde hair up in a ponytail and her long sleeves rolled up. She looked back at Karkat nervously.

“...you know…” She bit her lip and continued “...you could always hire someone…”

“Hiring someone” meant to Karkat hospitals and nursing homes with almost comatose old people drooling in their wheelchairs while overly-cheery aids wiped strained peas and mashed potatoes from their gaping toothless maws. He didn’t want that to happen to John. He imagined John helpless and out of his mind, grey-faced while nurses wiped his drool.

It was also a point of pride. John is HIS husband. How dare someone else come in and tell him how to take care of him? He’s known John their entire lives! Who could know more about him and how to take care of him than him!

….but that's not really true...is it?...

The incident with the chicken kind of proved that didn’t it? Karkat wasn’t as spry as he used to be… He couldn’t be everywhere at once, no matter how much he hovered over John and trailed after him, he just….couldn’t do it…

And he was just…

Out of his depth…

Alzheimer's! Mother fucking ALZHEIMER'S!!

Every single day it was like a new part of John was taken away. It felt horrible to think that, like he was betraying him, because John isn’t dead. He’s right there! He’s still John he’s just…

Not all there anymore…

Eroding slowly but steadily…

Until theres nothing left…

 

It turns out Vriska’s daughter Aranea had attended Rose’s lectures in the past. Rose had described her as bright if not long-winded at times. She was going through graduate school and needed a part-time job.

Karkat hired her reluctantly and she quickly became a staple in their household. She smiled and helped tend to John, even though he called her “Vriska” most of the time.

She went through flashcards with him and took him on long walks around the house telling him long-winded stories about this or that.

“You see the key is…” She told Karkat one night after John had gone to sleep “...You have to monitor how comfortable he is because he won’t remember to do it for himself anymore, redirect his attention, create a calm environment, give him plenty of rest, help him feel secure, and don’t take anything he does personally…”

Karkat huffed and looked away “...You make it sound like he’s a wild animal or a giant child…”

Aranea looked at him “To be blunt sir…” She shook her head “There's no cure...this isn’t about TREATING him to make it go away….This is about LIVING with him and making it as comfortable as possible for all those involved…”

He knew that. He should have known that. He KNEW that but…

He didn’t want it to be true…

 

John wound his arm around Karkat, smiling softly.

Karkat looked back at him and smiled. “...Hi John...What is it?...”

John pressed his cheek to Karkat’s hair, rocking them both back and forth. “...I love you Kitty…”

Karkat smiled and leaned up to kiss John on the cheek. “...I love you too dummy…”

John grinned and took one of his hands “Will you marry me?”

Karkat rolled his eyes and smiled shakily “...We already are married…”

John’s eyes widened before his smile got bigger “Good!”

Karkat leaned against John’s chest as John rocked them both back and forth and hummed.

 

They were watching one of the old movies they had made together. They leaned against each other on the couch in the den.

“Look!” John pointed at the screen. “Thats me! How did I get in there?”

Karkat kissed him on the cheek “I put you in there because I knew you would like it.”

John smiled at him. He leaned against Karkat’s shoulder and snuggled into the cushions.

“You’re a keeper…” He whispered awestruck. He took Karkat’s hands in his “I would like you to meet my dad...I’m very serious about you…”

Karkat declined to mention that they were more than fifty years past the “getting serious” part of their relationship. He squeezed John’s hands.

“I’m serious about you too John. So serious that maybe I would marry you and then spend...gosh I don’t know...fifty or so more years with you...maybe have a couple of kids...that sort of thing..”

John gaped at him before he smiled “....you have a cruuuuuush on me…”

Karkat rolled his eyes “...yeah John...I have a crush on you...now shut up and watch the movie...you’ll like this part…”

John held his hand and was insufferably smug for the entire day.

 

Karkat rushed into the bathroom when he heard the sound of John screaming.

“JOHN ARE YOU OK???”

John sat on the bathroom floor, rocking back and forth. He looked up at Karkat, his big blue eyes filled with tears “...I’m OLD….”

Karkat sat next to him on the bathroom tile. He held John’s head to his chest and kissed him on the top of his head. “...its ok John...I’m old too...we’re old together…”

John sniffed and hugged Karkat. “....ok...as long as we’re old together then thats ok…”

 

Karkat was in the kitchen, scrubbing something in the sink, the kitchen aglow in early-morning light. He felt someone tap against his shoulder and he turned around, rubber gloves still on his hands.

John stood there in his pajamas and bathrobe, his slippers muddy, proudly holding a bouquet of flowers out to Karkat.

John grinned “Will you go to prom with me Kitty?”

Karkat looked suspiciously at the flowers “John did you take those from the bushes?”

John looked shifty-eyed for a moment. “.....no…..”

Karkat ripped back the kitchen curtain. Sure enough, right there on the bush by the window was a very suspicious bald spot. God damn it John.

“Please kitty!!” He held out the flowers “Please go to prom with me!”

Karkat smiled and accepted the flowers. He took a vase out from under the sink, set the flowers in it and filled it with water. He put the vase of flowers on the kitchen table but kept one.

Karkat put the flower in the breast pocket of John’s bathrobe and smiled “There. you can’t go to prom without a flower in your lapel. Now you’re a proper fucking gentleman.”

John took a flower from the vase as well and put it behind Karkat’s ear “...you were so pretty…” John explained “...That night in Mrs. Miller’s petunia garden...I knew I loved you right there and then….I suspected it before...But that's when I KNEW….”

Karkat smiled softly, his eyes filling up with tears. He turned on the radio and soft slow music wafted through the kitchen. “...I love you too John...Come on...take me to Prom…”

John wound an arm around Karkat, his hand resting gently on his waist. Karkat’s hand rested on John’s arm, their other hands were clasped together as they slowly swayed to the music.

John hummed along to the song, happy and content. He twirled Karkat slowly and they both giggled. Karkat rested his head on John’s shoulder and John nuzzled into him and kissed his hair.

The song was slowly coming to an end and John threaded his fingers through Karkat’s hair and gave him a kiss. Karkat closed his eyes and kissed him back.

For a long while they stayed like that. Holding each other in the bright early morning light of the kitchen. Music wafting through the air.

 

That night they went to bed with soft smiles on their faces. John held Karkat’s hand and kissed his knuckles reverently. Karkat kissed his forehead. They slept facing each other, still holding hands.

The next morning Karkat woke up, light streaming through the blinds of their window. He was still holding John’s hand.

But it was too cold.

And just like that.

John was gone.


	22. Take me to prom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the last chapter unless I decide to do an epilogue.

Walking away from Weon’s river Karkat ventured into the bamboo forest. It was cool and dark, the canopy of leaves above dappling tiny drops of sunlight on the forest floor. The laughing and splashing of the children faded until it was completely silent, except for the music that wafted and echoed through the forest.

As Karkat ventured further through the dark the music got louder and louder and the bamboo got thicker and thicker.

Karkat squeezed past the bamboo, trying to find the source of the music. He edged his way through one particularly thick bundle of bamboo and-

Suddenly the forest ended. Karkat fell through the forest and fell flat on his face onto a tiled floor.

Karkat rubbed his face “Son of a bitch..” he looked back to where the bamboo forest inexplicably gave way to the large tiled space. Bamboo shot up through the floor and gave way to wood paneling on either side.

Ghostly silhouettes in sparkling dresses danced and laughed through the room. Hundreds of tables with gaudy balloons and sparkles filled the room. A refreshment table with punch and snacks was off to the side. A dance floor in the middle with long strings of colored lights above. “Senior prom!” one overly-glittered sign announced.

In the center of a ghostly throng of apparitions, in the middle of the dance floor, he stood.

He had been so beautiful that day. Wild hair and bright blue eyes reflecting the lights around them, wearing the finest suit a guy can rent, grin plastered on his face. He wasn’t wearing the store-bought flower he wore to prom though. The flower from their very last dance in the kitchen sat in his lapel.

Karkat looked at him and John smiled back. He stepped carefully into the scene towards John. Through the crowd and towards those bright blue eyes.

Karkat’s eyes were wide as John reached out a hand “Hi kitty…” he whispered “..Can I have this dance?...”

He was here. He was really here…

John took his hand. It was a sensation Karkat had experienced a million times before, every day for more than fifty years, holding hands while walking down the street, holding hands while eating breakfast, while making love.... The feeling of his skin under his fingertips, his strong hands…

His warmth…

It was like a missing puzzle piece. The feeling of his skin on his. His presence. His love. 

Like coming home.

Karkat’s smile was wide, even as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. John smiled softly. He took Karkat’s hand and pulled him close, the lights around them blurring into wide swaths of colors and John spun them slowly across the dance floor. John’s arms cradling around him, surrounding him in his warmth.

Karkat rested his head on John’s shoulder. He breathed in his scent and reveled in his warmth. He closed his eyes and John nuzzled into him and kissed his hair.

“....I missed you kitty…” John whispered and kissed Karkat’s cheek reverently. A gently brush of lips that somehow conveyed just how much he really missed him, needed him.

Karkat looked up at him, his eyes watery and his smile shaky “...I missed you too dumbass…I missed you so much John...”

John smiled down at him, eyes bright, hair wild, unbearably handsome. They way he looked when they were just stupid teenagers first in love. 

Karkat looked around at the school gymnasium full of balloons and glitter. “...So why prom?...”

John grinned “It was a wonderful night! All the music! The dancing! You were so cute in your little tux!” He booped Karkat on the nose.

Karkat batted away John’s hand and rolled his eyes. “They played the same three songs over and over, I don’t know where you got the idea that everyone was gracefully dancing like in fucking ball or something because they were all drunk as fuck...Vriska spiked the punch and Tavros threw up on the dancefloor...”

The shadowy figures started to reflect Karkat’s recollection, stumbling, laughing loudly and running into each other. The acrid smell of vomit wafting through the area.

“Also the suit was itchy as fuck…” Karkat grumbled.

John shook his head and rolled his eyes, smiling softly. The ceiling above them slid away to reveal a breath-taking expanse of stars. Bright explosions The dance floor faded from their feet. They sat in the back of the pickup truck that John had as a teenager. The cool night around them.

They sat in the bed of the pickup truck. Sharing each other’s warmth underneath a blanket. Watching the innumerable stars move slowly across the sky.

John looked up at the skies. The lights shining in his blue eyes. “After prom we had a romantic picnic underneath the stars…”

Tears shone in Karkat’s eyes. “Yeah well…” he wiped his eyes and laughed “The ‘romantic picnic’ was Taco Bell drive-through, and we were only out here because you ran out of gas you goober...we had to call your dad for help in the morning…”

John grinned and touched a finger to Karkat’s nose “It was romantic because you were there. Also we definitely made good use of that time we spent stranded…”

“....Dammit John…” Karkat turned away to hide the tears rolling down his face. He angrily scrubbed at them with a sleeve of his prom tux.

John’s eyebrows quirked up in sympathy and concern. He turned Karkat to face him again and wiped Karkat’s tears himself. “Kitty what's wrong?...”

Karkat shook his head and sobbed “....You’re my fifth person John….My fifth…”

John’s eyes widened “you mean that I-”

Karkat sniffled and nodded “Yeah John. You hurt me…”

“I was so angry at you….You left me alone...How was I supposed to be without you?...”

John pulled him to his chest as Karkat sobbed into his rented tuxedo. John pet his hair as Karkat left little tear stains on his tie.

“I was so angry with you…” Karkat whispered, his hands bunching up in the fabric of John’s suit coat. “....And every time I’ve forgiven someone...They leave me again…”

Karkat sobbed against John. “...I can’t lose you again...so please...just...stop being so wonderful for five seconds and let me be angry at you….”

John threaded his fingers through Karkat’s hair. He lifted Karkat’s face to meet his.

John kissed him. Karkat hesitantly wound his arms around John’s neck, cradling his head in his hands. They gripped each other like the world might fall apart if they loosened their hold. John had been dead for exactly 3 weeks, 2 hours and forty-seven minutes before Karkat died in his sleep that fateful tuesday. Karkat blamed him for every single one of those cruel seconds. The kiss was slick from the tears running down both their faces. It had been too long, it had just been too long.

John pulled back to look into Karkat’s eyes. His blue eyes were shining from his tears and the stars around them.

“Never.” He whispered hoarsely as fat tears rolled down his face “losing you once was more than enough for me too…I never wanted to hurt you...thats the last thing I ever wanted to do...I never wanted to go senile...I never wanted to leave you...”

“Besides…” John whispered, combing a hand through Karkat’s hair “...I remember I once promised you to love you for our entire lives…”

He smiled shakily and chuckled “...and then after if ghosts exist…”

Tears ran down Karkat’s cheeks, even as a goofy grin made it’s home across his face. He leaned up to kiss John and-

“and I was totally right about the whole ‘ghosts thing’ also so…”

Karkat pinched him. 

John laughed “Oww! Kitty no!”

John sat there, laughing and beautiful. The stars behind him the perfect illustration of his joy.

He looked…

He looked…

The way they were when they were young and happy and had no idea what the future had in store for them. Karkat didn’t know that his best friend was going to get murdered. They had no idea that they were going to lose a child. The kind of young where growing old seems like such a vague and far-off idea. They had no idea that John would lose his mind. That death would separate them.

All they had known back then was that they loved each other. That they would face the world together.

And they had.

They fought, they persevered. The went through trials and mother-fucking tribulations. They grew together as people, and then together they grew old. Wonderful things happened to them. Horrible things happened to them. Inconsequential things also happened on occasion!

They fought.

They laughed.

They loved.

They LIVED.

And it was amazing and awful. The joy of their wedding day. The sorrow of Weon’s death. Losing John one day at a time as he slowly lost his mind…

“...John…” Karkat whispered. “...Do you think you can look like the way you did before?...”

John smiled and tilted his head confused “..Like before what kitty?...”

“...the way you were...before...closer to the end…”

John’s eyebrows furrowed “I wasn’t…” He looked away “....I wasn’t so pretty near the end….”

Karkat gently took John’s chin and turned his face to look at him. He shook his head.

“...Not true…” Karkat whispered.

John’s hair faded from the silky black to the white-grey it had been. Wrinkles etched themselves underneath his eyes and across his forehead.

Karkat smiled and he also started to fade. His hair faded and turned white. liver spots dotted across his hands and wrinkles came back to his face.

John smiled, the wrinkles around his mouth a recording of all the thousands of times he had smiled. His bathrobe hanging around his shoulders.

Sunrise burst across the starry night sky in a brilliant explosion of light. Colors burst around them. Their entire lives were in front of them. Bursting across their view like film on celluloid. Every embrace, every kiss, every funny moment, every tragedy, and every sadness stretched out in the cinema of their minds.

Any memory. Any second of their lives. They could live over and over again.

And Karkat chose this one.

Early morning sunlight wafted through the kitchen. Painting them in bright golds and yellows. filling the room and bouncing off of all of the reflective surfaces. Dappling light like dewdrops.

Karkat took a single flower from a very familiar bouquet off the table. He put the little bud in the breast pocket of John’s robe.

“...Come on John….” He whispered “...take me to prom…”

John smiled and he took his own flower to put behind Karkat’s ear. “...All the memories you could have chosen…” His smile turned watery “...You chose this one…”

Karkat smiled “...It was our last day….I wouldn’t trade it for anything…”

John smiled and took his hand “...Theres so many people I want you to meet...My mom...my nana…”

Karkat kissed his cheek “...I want you to meet my brother...my birth parents...my grandma...But for right now…”

John kissed Karkat’s hand “...For right now…..for a week...for a hundred years...for all of eternity...I’ll be right here Kitty….I’ll be right here...”

And so they twirled through the dappled sunshine of the kitchen.

Soon there would be introductions, first meetings and tearful reunions with family member long gone. Crying mothers and father-in-laws meeting their son-in-laws for the first time. A little boy that needs to meet his grandparents….

But for right now it was just them. Two halves that had been away from each other for much too long. Pieces that had been missing from both their souls.

So they held each other, and they danced.

A last day...A last dance...That would last for an eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that was a fucking ride. It was amazing to write this for you guys. The responses were amazing. You are ALL amazing and i thank every single one of you from the bottom of my heart for staying with me. It was an amazing experience for me. this fic was of course inspired by a novel called "The five people you meet in heaven" I changed almost everything except the premise so don't expect a carbon copy but it is still an amazing read and I recommend it 100000%
> 
> I might do an epilogue. Tell me if I should in the comments below.


	23. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried to fit in as many requests as possible!
> 
> If anyone is wondering Gamzee's mom is the grandhighboob in my head (yes I spelled that right just go to the link)
> 
> [Gamzee's mom](http://turntechgoddamnit.tumblr.com/post/32903065990/he-be-sayin-hi-all-the-time-like-he-just-got-there)
> 
> THE ULTIMATE ENDING!

“...Kitty will you marry me?...” John held Karkat’s hand as they walked through a field of wildflowers. Bright spots of gold and red around them as the flowers swayed in the wind.

Karkat eyed him “For fuck’s sake John I thought you told me you weren’t senile anymore. We already are married.”

John flicked his nose and Karkat batted his hand away, as the scenery started to shiver and shift, changing into a beach, the water glimmering and lapping against their feet.

“I know that dummy. I still want to marry you.”

“so….” The sunny sky quickly turned to sunset and then starlight and then sunrise as Karkat mulled over John’s proposition. “You want to double marry me? Is that even a thing?”

John shrugged and started to walk out into the water, rocks appearing under his feet obligingly to support him as he walked “I’ve been thinking about it recently…”

Karkat followed him over the rocks, hopping across the grey stones “Yeah?...”

An island appeared before them and John stepped onto the shore, he gently took Karkat’s hand and helped him off the rock and onto the beach “The ‘death do us part’ bit...What if now that we’re both dead we’re not married anymore?”

Karkat rolled his eyes “...I really don’t think this matters John…”

John looked back at Karkat as they walked further into the island “It's important to me! One marriage per life! One in the alive life and one in the afterlife! It just makes sense…”

Karkat rolled his eyes as they walked into the shade between the trees of the island “It's really not important...But whatever makes you happy…”

John grinned at him. They walked to the other side of the island and John stooped to one knee. The sky burst into rapid sunset as a ring materialized out of thin air between John’s fingers.

“Karkat Vantas.” John presented the ring “Will you double marry me? Will you ghost join me in ghost matrimony?”

Karkat tried his best not to laugh “Stop saying ‘ghost’ every five seconds and maybe I’ll consider it.”

John looked up and him and wiggled his eyebrows “You’re just mad because I was right about ghosts being a thing.”

“You’re a dumbass.”

“I’m YOUR dumbass!”

Karkat smiled “...ok sure…”

John grinned and slipped the ring onto Karkat’s finger. “there!” He smiled “Now you’re my husband/ghost fiance!”

“Oh my god shut up.”

John put his hands to his hips and stood up “This calls for a celebration! I still haven’t met your biological parents, do you think they will be able to make it to our second wedding?”

Karkat smiled “This is dumb. YOU’RE dumb.”

John leaned over and kissed him on the nose. “I’m YOUR dumb.”

Karkat smiled and angled his face upwards to kiss John on the lips. “Alright ghost fiance...what do you have in mind?”

 

Weon looked doubtfully at the tiny tuxedo he wore, John gently straightened the little bowtie, his tongue peeking out past his lips in concentration.

Weon looked at Karkat “...Mom do I HAVE to wear the tux-edo?”

Karkat smiled down at him “Sorry kid. You have to wear nice things at weddings. Do you remember your job?”

Weon looked down at the little pillow with two little gold rings on it “I am the ring bear. I am a bear who comes and gives you rings when you need me to…”

Karkat nods “....close enough…”

John stands up and runs a hand through Weon’s hair “You’re so cute! We can’t wait for you to meet everyone!”

Weon perks up “Who is going to be there??”

Karkat smiles “You have a whole heck of a lot of grandparents to meet kid.”

John smiles “There's my nana! My grandpa! And my dad! And my mom who I didn’t meet until I got here...And then we have Karkat’s grandmother, Karkat’s biological parents, his adoptive dad…”

Weon’s eyes were wide “...That a lot of grandparents…”

He turned away, suddenly shy “....I never had any grandparents before….do you...think they like me?...”

Karkat stooped down to hug weon and give him a kiss on the hair “They’ll fucking love you kid….”

John put his hands to his hips “Language young man!”

Karkat scowled back at John and Weon laughed.

 

“Best friend!” Gamzee picked up Karkat in a bone-crushing hug “I mother-fucking knew you could do it! Up and look at you! Motherfucking passed on and shit! Miraculous shit man! Miraculous!”

Karkat hugged him back and smiled into his shoulder “...Thank you Gamzee….for everything…”

Gamzee smiled and pet his hair “ain’t no thing little bro...You up and did the hard shit all up and by yourself…”

Karkat pulled back from the hug to look up and Gamzee “...Can I ask another favor?...”

Gamzee grinned “Up and fucking name it little best friend!”

“John and I are getting married a second time….Will you be my best man again? Just like the first time?”

Tears welled up in Gamzee’s eyes “For real brother?”

Karkat nodded “For fucking real.”

Gamzee smiled and scrubbed at his eyes “...Well shit…”

Karkat smiled shakily up at him “Bring your mom Gam...I want to meet her…”

 

They found the little sunlit grove of trees where Kankri senior made his home in the afterlife. He hugged Karkat to his chest and bawled when he heard of the idea and then hugged John and bawled some more.

Meulin combed back Karkat’s hair and kissed him on the forehead. Gently swiping his cheek with a thumb. She wished him luck before she pulled John to the side and promised him the worst pain the afterlife had to offer if he wasn’t good to her baby.

John solemnly promised to be the best damn ghost husband the afterlife world has ever seen and Meulin kissed him gently on the cheek.

 

Slick smiled when he got his invitation, his eyes watery. Deuce elbowed him in the ribs with a grin. Karkat smiled at him but very STERNLY warned him not to start any shit with the rest of the family and Slick agreed with a grin and a puff of his cigarette.

 

They couldn’t get to Kankri...he was still stuck between realms...

 

Ghosts came from all over to a tiny little island materialized from nothing. The sunset reflected in a never-ending silvery sea. An assassinated mechanic and union leader, his formerly insane wife, Karkat’s tall and elegant grandmother, John’s father and mother, John’s grandmother and grandfather, a hundred little barefooted asian children all hopped across the rocks and to the island. 

The trees wove themselves into an arch for the ceremony, hundreds of blossoms blooming across their branches.

Chairs materialized out of nowhere and aligned themselves into two halves across the island, one side for each groom.

Karkat scanned the sea of faces, laughing and talking with each other. His eyebrows furrowed when he didn’t see Slick…

Kankri senior put his hand on Karkat’s shoulder “It's ok!” He smiled at Karkat and patted his back “Jack just had something to take care of…”

Meulin rolled her eyes “Well he’s going to be late.”

Kankri patted her arm “Patience...we do have an eternity after all…”

Weon made sure to meet all the grandparents that he could. Nana Egbert and Dolorosa (Karkat’s grandmother) cooed over him and pet his hair. Weon giggled and kicked his little feet as they showered him with attention.

Meulin and John’s father talked for a good long time, Kankri senior mostly watched as he held his wife’s hand.

Meulin pulled Karkat over to a pair of green-eyed girls that seemed familiar. She took her and Karkat’s hands and laced them together with the first girl. “Karkat…” She whispered “I eventually got out of the asylum...I couldn’t find you...but I had more children...These are your sisters...Meulin and Nepeta….”

Nepeta smiled at him. “...It's clawfully good to meet you….”

Karkat smiled shyly at her “...it's good to meet you too…”

 

Gamzee came next, a very tall and buxom woman with him. She had long shaggy platinum blonde hair that fell around her shoulders in tangled locks. Tattoos wound around her arms and her eyes were the same color as Gamzee’s.

Gamzee smiled and motioned to the woman “Best friend, Its my mother-fucking pleasure to introduce this miracle to you, this is my mom…”

Karkat wheezed as the woman picked him up in a bone-crushing hug.

She swayed Karkat from side to side as she hugged him “...Thank you…” She whispered “For being there for my baby when yall was alive.” She let him back down gently and kissed him on the forehead. “You’re a brother to him...a brother….And all that shit about being for his kids when he passed? My motherfucking grandbabies? Bless you...Motherfucking bless you….”

 

Over the silvery water two more figures took shape over the horizon. Karkat squinted over the water as they got closer….He could just barely make out the shape of his father’s hat on one of the figures and a….spot of red?....

It couldn’t be….

Oh my god….

Slick walked towards the wedding party, cigarette in hand….Kankri trailing right behind him….

Karkat rushed over to Kankri, tears in his eyes. He hugged Kankri and both brothers burst out into a fit of sobs.

Karkat wiped a thumb across his brother’s cheek and sniffled. Kankri laughed through his tears.

“But…” Karkat looked over him “How? You were stuck!...”

Kankri smiled as tears rolled down his cheeks, he looked over at Slick who was standing a respectful distance to the side. “....It took a lot...but...but we did it….”

Karkat looked over at Slick. “...Thank you…”

Slick smiled crookedly “...Yeah well...Kankri did all the hard shit...don’t thank me….”

Karkat wrapped his arms around Slick’s middle in a tight hug “Just shut up and accept my thanks old man…”

Slick was dumbstruck for a moment before he smiled and put his arms around Karkat’s shoulders “...Sure kid…”

Slick went to take his place in the wedding party, Mrs.Paint by his side.

 

Dolorosa took her place officiating at the altar, underneath the arch of the twined trees. John and Karkat took either side of her and clasped hands. Gamzee stood off to the side by Karkat and was trying his best not to cry. Kankri senior and Meulin and slick sat in the front row, Kankri senior sat between Meulin and slick and held Weon on his lap. Kankri Junior sat by Meulin as they held hands.

Dolorosa stood proud and elegant between them. “We stand here today to witness the reunification of Karkat Vantas and John Egbert. As marriage is ‘until death do us part’ they have decided to once again declare their devotion to each other.”

John squeezed Karkat’s hand and Karkat smiled back at him.

Dolorosa continued “Death is the ultimate reuniter. In death we only mourn the absence of a loved one. Here we find each other again...True union of souls withstand tragedy...withstand even death...And now that you have been reunited, and have decided to once again affirm your commitment and devotion to one another….This will be a truly deathless marriage...A marriage that may truly last for an eternity...Are you prepared?”

John and Karkat looked over at each other and nodded. John lifted Karkat’s hand where it was joined with his to kiss his knuckles.

Dolorosa smiled at the pair of them. “Do you have the rings?”

John motioned to Weon and he wriggled out of Kankri Senior’s lap, pillow with rings in hand. “Rawr rawr! I’m the ring bear!”

The wedding party giggled as John retrieved the rings.

“John Egbert, do you take this man in holy matrimony, for all of the afterlife and eternity?”

John smiled and slid the ring onto Karkat’s finger. “...I do…”

“And do you, Karkat Vantas, take this man in holy matrimony, for all of the afterlife and eternity?”

Karkat smiled back at John “...Yeah...I do…” He slid the matching ring on John’s finger.

“Then under my authority as a justice of the peace, even though I’m not quite sure if my authority can be legally extended to the afterlife…”

Kankri senior put his head in his hands “...mom…”

Dolorosa smiled “I now pronounce you husband and husband! Again!”

They kissed and the entire wedding party stood up to clap and cheer. Gamzee and Kankri senior were absolutely bawling at this point. Weon and the little kids from the orphanage jumped excitedly up and down. Meulin laughed and clapped, she kissed her husband’s cheek and Kankri junior’s forehead. Slick looked insufferably smug, but also looked at Karkat like he was the best thing in the afterlife.

Blossoms rained down from the trees as golden light shone through the canopy between the leaves.

Karkat smiled at the sea of faces before them. Everyone they had ever lost.

He squeezed John’s hand and once again they started a new life together.

 

 

Casey walked through her parent’s home. She cleaned up the broken glass in the den and looked at the bed in her parent’s bedroom. Both of them had died in this same fucking bed. How many people have to die on something in order for it to be cursed?

She better not donate it then.

It would be better to burn it.

She should burn this whole fucking place down.

If only he had talked to her. The last voicemail she ever sent him was so ANGRY. She didn’t know...she didn’t know it would be the last time she would ever talk to him…

She’s startled out of her revelry by Jane lightly touching her shoulder “...Darling...Are you alright?...”

Casey wiped her nose, her eyes watery and red “..Yeah I’m fine it's just….”

Alone alone alone alone alone alone

“it's just that…”

Alone alone alone alone alone they left me i’m all alone now what will I do without them

“It’s just…”

Jane wrapped her arm around her shoulders as Casey burst out into a new fit of sobs. “I know…” Jane whispered “It feels like being abandoned…”

Jane swiped a thumb under her niece's eyes “...But no matter how alone you think you are...You’re not ok?”

Jane hugged her to her chest as she continued to sob “You will always have a family with me and Calliope and...Caliborn, even if he is an awful person...The point is that you have me and Calliope! And Dave and Terezi and Rose and Kanaya! You’re not alone...We’re all here for you…”

Casey sniffled and smiled weakly “...thank you aunty…”

 

It felt like snooping. Going through their drawers, all their personal files...But these sort of things need to be sorted out when someone dies. God there's so much paperwork that needs to be filed and managed and sorted through, insurance and funeral costs and foundations and wills and-

Casey came across a book in one of Karkat’s files. A heavy file. The pages were torn and crumpled slightly and at times the words were blurred as if someone cried over them. It was a manuscript of some kind. She began to read...

And so it was the day that Karkat Vantas was set to die.

 

An old man trudged through an impressive but empty estate with all of the steadfast will and grace of a lead turtle.  
Karkat Vantas had always been a short man, but age and grief have the indescribable ability to make one even shorter. Thick eyebrows furrow at their surroundings, when he and John had this place built why the fuck did they make all of the hallways so fucking long?

Casey spent the whole afternoon with that manuscript and decided that she would make it into a movie if it was the last thing she did.

 

Jane Crocker was very stressed. It’s a horrible thing to lose a brother and a best friend within the span of a month. She hated losing people, she had already lost too many damn people.

She scrubbed across the tile in her bathroom in a nervous frenzy. Cleaning helps, you can clean things easily, make them pure and good again, something you can physically do to make the world seem a little more right again.

Horrible things happen every day and there’s absolutely nothing she or anyone else can do about it. She hates not feeling in control. Death and horror and pain and LOSS are hard. Cleaning is easy.

Soon her house is sparkling clean and she’s left trying to find or create a mess.

She looks up and ah ha! The ceiling fan is dirty!

She retrieves a rag and a stepstool from the kitchen. She climbs up onto the stool and wipes the blades of the fan.

Loss and pain and horror.

She cleaned before her children came, when her husband was murdered, and she cleans now. She scrubs harder. She lifts herself higher onto the stool to try and reach a spot of grime. Her house slippers are wet from rinsing the floor, the stool slips against the wet tile and-

Jane Crocker falls.

She hits her head on the tile of the bathroom and-

She HEARS the crunch and-

Jane sits up and rubs her head. That was...Surprising...she fell...Shouldn’t she hurt? As a matter of fact...nothing hurts...She flexes her fingers and the joint pain...the arthritis...is...Completely gone…

She stands up and-

“Sup Chica…”

She remembers the day in the morgue..the grey skin...the tangled hair...the bullet holes...But he gently puts a hand on her shoulder and his skin turns tanned and flushed again, his hair smoothing out into curls...he smiles at her.

“You…” Jane sputters and her eyes fill up with tears “...You’re DEAD…”

Gamzee looks softly at her, brushing a hand across the side of her face “....So are you baby…”

Jane looks down.

She lays sprawled across the tiles,her slippers askew, her blue eyes wide open but lifeless, red pooling across the tiles and around her body.

In Jane’s shocked and confused mind, all she can think of is how much of a mess she’s making.

Gamzee takes her hand in his, she watches as he lifts her hand and kisses her knuckles “I told you chica...whenever you was up and ready for it...I would be waiting for you…”

“And we have a long way to go baby....”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! sorry this took me so long! I started school AND another project! 
> 
> I'm currently writing "Minnie and Crocodile dad" Which is a fic about a lusus adopting a human child! I would LOVE it if any of you would want to join me for this new adventure!
> 
> Peace out homies! If you have ideas for oneshots you want to see in this series tell me! I might just do them if they tickle my fancy!
> 
> Thank you so much!

**Author's Note:**

> please comment if you enjoyed! Or if you want to yell at me that's cool too.
> 
> My tumblr is the same as my ao3 name, feel free to bug me there about this fic as well as comment below.


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